


Moebius Past

by WhimsyMoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter is Salazar Slytherin, References don't show until later chapters, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Terrible at summeries, Terrible at tagging, Time Travel, not a reincarnation fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsyMoon/pseuds/WhimsyMoon
Summary: During the summer after Fourth Year, Harry is attacked at his home. Though he comes out of the incident alive, how will the results change the course of the past? And change the future?This is a repost from fanfiction.net. The first few chapters are also being updated, so past readers will want to reread.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I'll leave the announcements the way they are for the most part, but I wanted all of you to know that I have done some extremely extensive changes to the existing chapters. Again. If you are one of my previous readers, you will definitely want to go back over the chapters and re-read them. Again. Some chapters have few changes while others have major overhauling. Please tell me what you think! I was not happy with how it had turned out the first time (and second time - I'll probably never be satisfied) and I had some new inspiration. Hopefully this time there will be even better flow.
> 
> "Old Norse is in italics."
> 
> “Scottish Gaelic is bold and italicized.”
> 
> "Written Latin is underlined and in italics."
> 
> "Parseltongue is underlined."
> 
> 'Fawkes speaking is in italics and is quoted with apostrophes.'
> 
> If any other languages pop up over the course of the story, I will make note of it as well. I will also post this key at the beginning of following chapters to make it easier to remember. And don't worry if you can't remember the key. It's more just for a visual cue that the language isn't English.
> 
> ..
> 
> Oh, and as a side note: everything is the same up to the end of book four. Everything else is taking a much different course. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything but original characters.

**Chapter One: Prologue**

The cemetery of Little Haggleton had been long abandoned back to nature, for all the good it did. Even the flora had long since succumbed to the call of Death. Amongst the crumbling tombstones and clammy fog he walked as if through an infinite maze. An impression of towering hedges pressed in against either side of him, suffocating, but not there if he turned his head to look. "Murderer…" The word was breathed out over a stale wind. "You killed me, Harry… Murderer."

He sped up, but milky eyes suddenly loomed from the darkness before him along with a flash of ashen yellow. "Why, Harry? Gloryhound. How could you?" The rest of Cedric's rotting face came sharply into view. "If you hadn't insisted that we both grab the Cup, I wouldn't be dead. It's your fault that my parents had to bury their only son. It's your fault… all your fault, Harry…" Rotting hands, fingers like claws, reached out to him through the encompassing darkness...

The black haired teen woke with a scream choked in his throat and that threatened to erupt. Self preservation kept him quiet, but tears gathered in his eyes that the gangly fourteen, nearly fifteen, year old boy could not suppress. He immediately curled up into a tight ball and let out several sobs. His body was shaking as he tried to forget the images that were replaying over and over in his head with the accusations that were being thrown at him.

He knew that these weren't normal nightmares for a young teen boy. No one, let alone one barely more than a child, should have to witness a murder in front of their eyes. But it wasn't just that… they hadn't even given him any sort of counseling. Any sane person would make sure that he was still alright after something so traumatizing, right? But no… he was locked up back at his relatives. That was certainly abuse too, even if they hadn't physically touched him. Besides that, not even his friends had messaged him besides the letter saying that Dumbledore had said it wasn't safe for letters but he would be picked up sometime in the near future to go somewhere undisclosed. Of course, that was all that he knew, that they deigned to tell him… and somehow, he felt that there was something very wrong. But then again this was the life of Harry Potter so why should he be any surprised at all? He was allowed to be a little melodramatic.

As he was just about to resign himself to another sleepless night, a heavy sort of feeling descended like the fog from his dream. Feeling uneasy, Harry climbed out of his bed and made his way over to his window. With a sense of foreboding, he carefully looked out from where he was hidden by the curtain. What he saw made his stomach drop. Deatheaters… he could recognize them even at this distance. How did they find out where he lived? A spy maybe? The how didn't matter if he never made it out alive, so he had to find a way to get out quick. With few options at hand, he scrambled over to his desk to scribble something onto a scrap of parchment. He attached it to Hedwig's leg and brought her over to the thankfully already open window. "I dunno if this'll do any good, but take this to Dumbledore," he pleaded with his owl before releasing her carefully out the window, trying not to be noticed. She was flashy, but maybe an owl would be overlooked.

As he looked down at the gathered group then, Harry bit his lip anxiously and grabbed for his wand. He didn't know how or why they were here, but Professor Dumbledore had mentioned something about blood wards protecting him. They were the whole reason he even lived here during the summer. If anyone meant him harm, they couldn't enter, right?

But… Voldemort had used his blood in that ritual hadn't he? The bastard had mentioned something about protection… wouldn't that void to Voldemort the wards around the house? He hadn't seen the man yet, but that didn't mean that he wasn't there or would appear soon. Why had Dumbledore not thought of this? Every racing thought rooted Harry to his spot and drained blood from his face.

Then, as if on cue, Harry's scar flared with blinding pain and a tall figure materialized from the sea of cloaked figures. The macabe parody of a man that was Voldemort stood out as a beacon amongst the masses of his followers, his flesh ashy and gaunt. The reaper's smile on the man's face was enough to break the binding of Harry's feet and he didn't even stop to think as he bolted from the window and made his way into the hallway.

As he turned away from the window, he never saw Voldemort draw his wand and use it to call forth the wards. Inside the house, Harry did what he could to block the bedroom doors. As much as he hated his relatives, he didn't want their deaths on his conscious. If he survived this. Alright, he had to admit he just didn't want them getting in the way. If they came barreling in, then chances of survival fell to complete zero.

He could hear his uncle start to make some angry noises, but ignored it in favour of creeping down the stairs. He avoided the windows as well as he could, though snuck a peek out into the dark. It wasn't hard to realize that the house was completely surrounded.

"Come out, come out, wee little Potter!" The shrill voice was a whiplash through what had been an oppressive silence, the first flash of lightning that broke the calm before the storm. The very sound of it made a shiver go down Harry's spine and he tightened his hand around his wand, his gaze darting about frantically for any inspiration. What could he do? Going out there would be certain death, but would anyone even come in time? He had used underage magic, so perhaps the Ministry would come?

But, as if summoned by the very thought, there was a ripple of laughter through the gathered Deatheaters. The Bellatrix's shriek rose above the rest. "Little Boy Potter is such a naughty child! Lookie here! 'Dear Mr Potter,'" her voice took on a nasally tone.

"'We have received intelligence that you performed the Levitation Charm at twenty-three minutes past one this morning in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the household of a muggle family.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence to destroy your wand. Hoping you are well and yours sincerely, Mafalda Hopkirk.' Oh, how precious! They'll find his wand in as many pieces as he'll be!"

Well, that certainly answered his question on whether or not anyone would be coming, Harry thought wildly as he tried to block out the roaring laughter from the death eaters. Of course they wouldn't come when they could instead send useless mail! Instead, they'd be along far after they'd be of any use!

But mental rants about the incompetence of the Ministry would not do him any good. Harry knew Voldemort was taunting him and that was only making him panic more. He had to do something – anything! There had to be something he could do; he'd survived a murderous Tournament for Merlin's sake.

The Tournament. Well, in for a knut, in for a galleon. With little thought, Harry summoned his Firebolt. Maybe he could fly out… he'd survived worse odds before and he wasn't the youngest seeker in a century for nothing. A small chance was better than no chance and he'd take possibly dying over definitely dying any day. He was a Gryffindor anyhow, right? They were known for their idiotic bravery. Though, this couldn't really be called bravery, but rather desperation to save his own hide no matter how reckless he was. But then, he'd never really been accused of being smart before. That was all Hermione.

With a deep breath and a clench of his jaw, Harry steeled himself for this reckless notion he was about to attempt with nothing but a wand in his hand. He grimly mounted his broom and took another deep breath, counting the beats of his hammering heart. Steady now, he could do this.

"Diffindo!" The spell exploded from his outstretched wand and took the door with it. An explosive mixture of wood, plaster, and brick rained down on the unsuspecting Deatheaters. Harry did not waste even a moment as he shielded his face and flew out through the debris. Veering sharply upward, he spiraled like a rocket as he sought his bearings. But the Deatheaters had not been a powerful army because they were slow and stupid. Curses and hexes of varying acidic hues whizzed past him through sheer dumb luck, their spellcasters recovering quickly.

But the dream of escape fled in a moment as Harry impacted against the wards, suspended in midair as numerous curses slammed into his suddenly prone back. Fissures of light like shattering glass spread a web across the ward's dome from his point of contact. Pain that could drive a man to insanity arched and contorted Harry's back, a voiceless scream choked in his throat. The fizzling air around him seemed to almost physically expand, an unearthly whine building until there was a moment of complete stillness that lasted only half a heartbeat. In the next, the ward imploded sending Deatheaters disapparating to flee the shockwave.

The last Harry knew was a blinding pain, a relief to the previous agony, that flashed like lightning across his face originating from his scar.

((Page Break))

The first thing he perceived when he came back to awareness was the pain. Every last bit of him ached, though perhaps his head most of all. He didn't know how long he had been out, but all he knew was that he wanted to go back to the soothing darkness. It didn't hurt there. Still, he found himself instead opening his eyes to try to figure out where he was. And, of course, he didn't recognize the place at all. He slowly tried to rise up off of the ground and the pallet he'd been laid out on while he attempted to push down the welling panic. But before he could get far, a voice interrupted him. **_"I would not do that if I were you."_ **

It was the voice of a young boy, maybe around the same age as him. Looking over quickly, he noticed that the stranger had bright red hair and amused light green eyes. He did look about the same age as him, too. Although, he was perhaps a little taller and he did have the beginnings of lean muscle. But all that he only gave a passing glance at. What took over his attention was the language that the boy spoke. He didn't understand a word of it.

 **_"You have been asleep for quite some time. You should not be getting up. That wound will be needing tending again, too."_ ** The boy was smiling as he walked further into the round stone hut. He crouched down to add more wood to the center fire. **_"What happened to you? I found you in a field, the ground all ash around you."_ **

With little other choice, and no strength otherwise, he settled back down onto the straw pallet. "I… I cannot understand you," he finally stuttered out, making the other boy look at him in surprise.

 **_"What? I do not understand you."_ ** The boy looked puzzled, obviously having the same problem that he was. **_"You cannot speak my tongue? Are you not from around here, then?"_ ** He then suddenly rolled his eyes and lightly smacked his forehead as the black haired teen watched in bemusement. **_"Ah, that was not a smart thing to ask. Of course you do not speak my tongue. It is not hard to miss."_ ** The boy looked irritated for a moment, crossing his arms. Finally, he looked back over. **_"Can you tell me your name?"_ ** He then stopped and huffed softly. **_"Of course not. What am I thinking?"_ ** The boy then pointed towards himself. **_"Godric Gryffindor. My name is Godric Gryffindor."_ ** He then looked at the other boy, obviously waiting for a response.

The boy on the bed looked a mite bit panicked while deciding the other boy spoke too much for the language barrier between them. And now he was looking at him as if he expected a response. The other boy had rattled off so many things, what on earth could he have said? But on a hunch, and feeling unsure, he pointed towards the other. "Godric… Gryffindor?" He repeated that part slowly and received a bright smile in reward.

The red haired boy pointed to himself again. "Godric." He then paused and pointed towards that other. **_"Who are you?"_ **The boy looked entirely too proud of himself, but he concentrated on trying to figure out the question.

The answer was simple enough, but he pointed towards himself with a frown. If the boy was Godric then he was asking now for a name. His name was… a cold stone of panic dropped into his stomach as he tried to quell his once more rising panic. He ignored the confused and worried look that was thrown at him as he desperately searched through the tattered remnants of his memory. For something that should have been simple, he found himself coming up empty.

He was just trying to figure out how to relay his problem to the other boy when a half formed memory flitted through. It was gone too quickly to properly analyze, but a name came attached to the fleeting memory. He was there with one – two? – others and they were talking about something. He couldn't remember what… but that name seemed important. Perhaps it was his? Still feeling uncertain, but with nothing else to go on, he pointed towards himself again. "Salazar… Salazar Slytherin." He received another bright smile in return.

((Page Break))

**_"You know, this not knowing the same speech situation that we have gets rather... old."_ ** The annoyed tone to the boy's voice made Salazar roll his eyes. He thought he knew the gist of what the other was talking about, but it was certainly rather annoying to not be able to communicate. They could only get so far with over exaggerated gestures. In conclusion, he was going to have to learn the other language. Which might take some time, but he understood a few things after the few days he had been spending with the other boy and the result would be well worth it. Godric always seemed to ramble on about things and Salazar could never make heads or tails of it all. Sometimes he wondered if Godric either liked to hear himself talk, or if he was hoping that Salazar would just one day suddenly figure out how to speak the language. It certainly hadn't worked so far and he was at his wit's end. Gods knew that Godric certainly was if his tone was anything to go by.

But speaking of the other boy… he didn't know much about Godric. All he knew was that the boy lived here in this little stone hut in an abandoned, rather half burnt, village near the sea. Godric had made himself a cozy little living space in a village that was devoid of all other people. Most of it looked to have been burned down and part of him wondered what had happened to the people. Slaughtered? But then, where were the bodies? Perhaps the survivors buried their dead and then moved on? And he didn't know why Godric was here on his own, or if he had been a survivor of whatever had happened here. He certainly had no way to ask anyways. Godric didn't seem to mind being out here, he thought. And since he didn't know anything about his own past, he also didn't know how he had come to be in this place or if he had any family in the world. For now, he could stick with the other boy. He did enjoy his company, besides. They just had to overcome the language barrier and they weren't getting anywhere fast like this.

With a sigh, Salazar picked up an apple and turned to Godric. He was tired of the ranting from Godric that he couldn't understand. Really, why hadn't the boy thought of this earlier instead of just obviously complaining about it? Why hadn't he tried this earlier? He'd done himself no good by moping about until now. He wouldn't do that again.

Giving Godric a stern look, Salazar pointed at the apple that he was holding in his hand. Once he had Godric's attention, he raised an eyebrow and gestured again. He was expecting to get a name for it, if the silly boy actually understood what he was trying to get at. Of course, all he got in response was a blank look from the redheaded boy. Sighing, Salazar rolled his eyes. **_"What?"_ ** He had probably butchered the pronunciation, but it was one of the few words that he knew, given how many times it had come up in their rather one-sided conversations.

At the word from Salazar though, Godric suddenly seemed to brighten up and understand. **_"You want me to teach you!"_ ** He grinned, looking fully proud of the deduction. It made Salazar sigh, but a fond smile teased the edge of his lips. No matter how hard it was for the two of them to communicate, he found himself enjoying the other boy's presence. He was just too adorable to ignore. But that wasn't something to ponder over now while he was finally getting his language lessons. He wasn't sure what Godric had said, but the boy seemed to understand finally so they could get this underway.

Proving him right, Godric grabbed the apple and pointed at it with a flourish. **_"Apple."_ ** In response, Salazar rolled his eyes but carefully repeated the word. Godric nodded approvingly and the lessons took off. Salazar forced Godric to give him the names of various things, pointing to one thing after another. He would go over them again and again until Godric would indicate that he had gotten them right. Godric got bored of the process quickly, but could not say no to Salazar who seemed to hunger for the knowledge to learn more. Necessity made him learn quickly. Besides, there wasn't much else he could do while he healed from whatever accident had robbed him of his memories and had scarred his face. Godric had said he was lucky he hadn't lost his eye.

((Page Break))

In the end, Salazar was very thankful that he was such a quick study. He still didn't have any memories of before he had woken up in Godric's hut, but he could remember other things. An instinctive thing, he was sure. He knew how to be a person, but everything that made him who he was… was gone. Who was to say that he was like he had been before? He really tried not to dwell on it because maybe now he had a chance of being a better person. At least one advantage of not having any memories, and being stuck in a place where no one spoke his original language, helped him learn how to speak Godric's tongue quickly. Of course, he was still learning and Godric took great enjoyment in correcting him, but he could actually have a decent conversation with the other boy. Said boy who he still didn't know much about. Though would it matter either way, he didn't know. Knowing where Godric came from might not make much sense to him with his memory the way it was.

Still, Salazar had the feeling that Godric was hiding something from him. But for now, he said nothing. Why should he change what they had now? It worked for both of them. So instead of trying to ask about Godric's own mysterious past, he had gotten the other boy to start teaching him about the land they lived in. He wanted to know everything. His lack of memories opened up a thirst for learning and knowledge, another positive side effect in Salazar's mind. Which did remind him of something he wanted to ask the other boy…

 **_"Godric,"_ ** Salazar called out as he pulled on a tunic. He had scavenged for wearable clothing in the crumbling stone huts of the abandoned village and had managed to find a few wearable tunics, a pair of trousers, shoes, and a cloak. Most things had been destroyed or were too ratty for use. One such ratty tunic he had used for wrappings on his feet and over his wrists to make his clothing more manageable. A length of rope finished off the outfit as a belt. Slipping on his well worn shoes then, he went to go find his friend. He was nowhere to be found in the nearby burnt out huts. Confused, Salazar continued to work his way outward as he looked through the ramshackle buildings. He hadn't thought that Godric had said he'd be wandering off anywhere.

As he searched, there were suddenly two strong arms that wrapped around him. A filthy hand clamped over his mouth and foul smelling breath washed over his ear. **_"Be still, boy."_ ** The voice was rough and there was no trace of the rather fine way of speaking that Godric had. It suddenly made him suspicious of Godric's origins again in a small part of his mind. But there wasn't time to think of such things, so he quickly stopped moving. His body may have gone still, but there was a calculating look in his eyes. Who was the man? Where had he come from? What was it that he wanted? A bandit of some sort perhaps? Whoever he was, how was he to get out of the man's grasp? Was Godric okay?

But speak of the devil and he shall appear. **_"Hey! You get away from him, you filthy thief!"_ ** Godric's voice rang out and interrupted Salazar's thoughts. It made Salazar want to groan in annoyance no matter how pleased he was to know that Godric was safe… for now. Stupid, brash Gryffindor. Grunting softly as the grip on him tightened, Salazar's eyes then went wide as cold metal pressed into his throat. He thought he knew what that was… and he rather hoped that Godric wouldn't do anything stupid. But of course, his friend being who he was, took a step forward. **_"Hey! I said get away from him!"_ ** The knife only pressed harder against his throat and Salazar started to panic. This was not how he wanted to die! He would come back to haunt Godric the rest of his life if the boy caused his end!

But as his panic rose, a sort of heaviness grew in the air like the heat of a humid summer's day. When the knife at his throat suddenly drew a line of blood, the pressure exploded outwards in reaction. The man who held him captive was thrown backwards and through an already crumbling wall. The unstable house collapsed upon him and buried him in debris. Salazar could only look at the building in surprise, a hand going to his injured throat as he turned to look at the settling stones. What had that been? He looked down at his hand then, almost expecting it to look different.

He did not know what he expected as he turned back to Godric, ridicule or suspicion were both likely. But the boy was gaping at him in a small amount of awe. Salazar was starting to feel uncomfortable when the boy suddenly burst out, **_"You are a wizard, too! I thought you were just a mundane."_ ** He then smiled brightly and walked over to his friend. **_"That was a simply amazing piece of magic, Sal!"_ **

**_"Do not call me that infernal nickname,"_ ** Salazar huffed back automatically, his mind abuzz with the new developments. Magic. He knew it as the truth as sure as he knew that the sky was blue. Whatever had stolen his mind had not stolen his magic. But to have forgotten such a piece of himself! Praise be to Godric's gods that the knowledge had been returned to him. And to find that Godric had magic as well! However, that brought up an interesting point. Salazar's eyes narrowed and he put his hands on his hips. **_"Explain. Now."_ ** He said sharply, making Godric scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. Salazar could not fault the other boy for hiding such knowledge, but he still wanted answers.

 **_"If you want, Sal… but we should probably move on from here."_ ** The boy looked around a little sadly and just a tad nervously. **_"I mean… who knows how many more are out there."_ ** He motioned towards the caved in house where the bandit had been thrown into. Godric really did not want to hang around to find out if he had friends around. So, he quickly led the way back to their little hut once Salazar agreed that they shouldn't hang about. There, both boys gathered up what food they could in some makeshift packs. They had little else to take with them so Godric quietly led his friend out of the hut and out of the small grouping of buildings. Running into the nearby forest, they were soon on their way in no particular direction. No one seemed to be following them so it was there that Salazar demanded once more for Godric to tell him his story. Finally, and grudgingly, Godric did.

He licked his lips nervously before taking a deep breath, not looking over at Salazar as he spoke, **_"I come from a noble family of sorts, as I am sure you have figured out by now."_ ** Salazar nodded curtly in response as he carefully found his footing through the woods as they walked. Godric's speech and mannerisms were too proper for what he had had a feeling a poor lad would otherwise be like. He waited impatiently for Godric to continue but Godric nibbled on his lower lip for a few moments before continuing. He sighed out then. **_"My parents are both mundane. But I started showing signs of magic when I was very young. A local man in the village noticed and offered to teach me magic in secret,"_ ** he said with a shrug of his shoulders, not explaining how the older wizard had found out. **_"A few weeks before I found you, I took a trip with my parents to visit my mother's family. However, while we were traveling we were set upon by rogues."_ ** A scowl passed over Godric's face. **_"I used magic to protect myself… I had no other way. But I was banished. My parents disowned me and threw me out."_ ** The boy didn't look pleased and perhaps a bit saddened. Salazar could imagine it was from the betrayal of his parents. Magic was a gift to be proud to have, but if there was one truth that he felt down to his bones it was that not everyone took kindly to the abnormal. Where he learned this lesson was something he might never know, but it was ingrained deep.

He was broken from his thoughts as Godric continued to speak. " **_If it was not for the magic I had been taught, I do not think that I would have survived this long. Nobles are not exactly known for being able to survive in the wilderness,"_ ** Godric snorted, making a joke at his own expense.

Salazar didn't respond, not knowing what to say. What could he say anyways? But finally, the black haired boy let out a breath. **_"If it is any consolation… if it had never happened, I doubt that you would have met me. We would have never met so we would not be good friends."_ ** In response, he got a small smile. They had each other. The past was past as far as Salazar was concerned. It was not like he could remember his own anyways, so they could put such things behind them.

((Page Break))

Salazar cursed as his vision suddenly became blurry. **_"Not again!"_ ** He raged, feeling irritable enough to really have an outburst of emotion. Across from him, Godric grimaced before lowering his new wand.

" **_Sal… this is the third time you have lost those,"_ ** he complained. He was not about to take advantage of his friend's near blindness in a simple duel like this. They were both just getting used to their wands and new spells. Godric did not want to accidentally hurt his friend since they both were not the best duelers yet. He knew that in a real duel he would have to take advantage of anything that he could, but this was different. They could be more ruthless to each other once they really knew what they were doing, Godric decided. **_"You should really do something about those. Even with anti-summoning charms and some sticking charms, you still manage to lose them or somehow break them."_ **

Salazar gave his friend an angry scowl. **_"Do you think that I do not know that?"_ ** He snapped back, his eyes unfocused and looking just over Godric's shoulder much to the red haired teen's amusement. He wisely chose not to comment on it as he walked over to where the man's strange vision correctors had dropped.

Picking them up, he cleaned them and fixed the cracked glass quietly before handing them over to Salazar. **_"I heard there was a potion that could fix your eyesight,"_ ** he said in an offhand sort of manner. **_"Maybe we can ask Master Wolfhelm about it,"_ ** he said, referring to the wizard who had helped them build their wands.

Taking the contraption with a grumble, Salazar pulled them on and breathed a sigh of relief when his vision cleared. He then turned his eyes towards Godric. **_"A… potion you say?"_ ** He spoke thoughtfully. Most of the wizards they had come across really did not know their potions. Most seemed to be under the impression that it was women's work. Salazar himself knew very little about potions as well. There was some sort of lingering resentment towards the subject that he did not understand, but it did not damper his curiosity. What sort of things could be done with potions? He knew that Master Wolfhelm had some knowledge of the subject as it had been instrumental in the construction of their wands. Decided, he tucked his wand away. **_"Yes… I think I will look into that. It is a perfect opportunity to learn more_ **.”

Godric gave him a look of amusement before tucking his wand safely away in the holster at his wrist as well. They had both gotten one as a present from Wolfhelm when they had successfully completed their wands. **_"Well, let us head back to camp then. Master Wolfhelm was talking about moving on again."_ ** He was eager about getting his friend's eyes fixed. They could really concentrate on their dueling then and they would not have to worry about Salazar losing his vision.

They went to go find their mentor and, as soon as Salazar tried to vaguely go about asking how the potion was made without trying to sound too eager about it, Wolfhelm had exuberantly told him that he had been waiting ages for Salazar to come to him and ask. Salazar had been prepared to hex Godric as the man struggled to breathe through his laughter in the corner of the tent. Apparently he had to work on his subtlety. That or Wolfhelm was a lunatic... but then, he had already known that their mentor was insane. Godric was a lunatic as well.

But the lunatic of a master had the knowledge that Salazar needed. So he sucked it up and let the man teach him. Wolfhelm really was all too eager to teach him too, including a lesson on why certain ingredients were used and why they had to be prepared the way they were. That had been immediately followed by his refusal to let Salazar brew potions unsupervised. The young man had started a few experiments that had not ended well, as he had wanted to see what happened when he had added certain ingredients together. It had been what had prompted the lesson on potion ingredients in the first place. He had been unable to control his curiosity, but it had been an important lesson.

In the end, Wolfhelm gave Salazar a scroll he had compiled on ingredients and techniques before he forbade him to experiment until he had better knowledge of the ingredients he was to work with. He did not want the teen to accidentally blow himself up. He had spent too much valuable time teaching them and he did not want it to go to waste. Or so he said. So with Salazar forbidden from his experiments for now, Wolfhelm was able to guide the teen through the makings of the potion.

It was after the week long brewing process that found them all gathered in the tent so Salazar could finally use the potion. Wolfhelm gave his student a searching look. **_"So you do understand what will happen once I place a drop of the potion in your eyes, yes?"_ ** Salazar was currently lying on his transfigured bed with Wolfhelm sitting in a rickety chair next to him. He had a small wood hewn bowl in his hands and a little spoon. Godric was standing nearby, a grim look on his face.

Salazar nodded his head stiffly as he stared at the cloth ceiling with his unfocused gaze. **_"Yes, sir. Once you put the potion in my eyes, you will need to seal my eyelids shut so the potion can work. They will be sealed for three days before you will unseal them,"_ ** he repeated what had been told to him several times during the brewing process over the course of the week. Salazar was still determined to do this.

So Wolfhelm carefully dropped some of the potion into the young man's eyes before he quickly instructed him to close them. Once that was done, he tapped Salazar's eyelids with the tip of his wand. **_"Are you comfortable?"_ ** He asked as he watched for any signs of an unusual reaction. Salazar only grumbled as his hands twitched with refraining from the obvious urge to rub at his eyes. Wolfhelm chuckled as he stood up. **_"Well, I shall leave you two boys alone. I will go dispose of the leftover potion."_ **And with that, he was gone.

Godric walked over to his friend and sat down on the chair that Wolfhelm had vacated. He then reached out and took his friend's hand. **_"How does it feel?"_ ** He asked curiously. He had been a little worried that it would not work, but Salazar had been so determined and he knew that Wolfhelm would not administer a potion he thought would hurt Salazar. Besides, he had been the one to suggest the potion in the first place to his friend.

Salazar quickly slapped Godric's hand away and sat up. **_"I feel fine,"_ ** he told his friend. **_"And you know I despise being coddled like that. I am neither sick nor dying. You do not have to act like I am,"_ ** he said stiffly before he stood up. Taking a deep breath then, he walked towards the entrance of the tent. **_"I just have to survive three days of this. It will be fine. You worry too much."_ **

Godric gave a long sigh and a roll of his eyes. **_"And you are too proud,"_ ** he muttered as he stood up and grabbed the back of his friend's tunic before he could trip over the trunk that rested just to the side of the tent flap. He steered him in the right direction before he left after Salazar. It was going to be a long three days… but at the end of it; Salazar should never have to use the strange vision correctors ever again. So he was not going to complain. Too much.

  
  


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**"Expulse!"**

Salazar cursed as he ducked under the maroon spell that streamed towards him with a faint whistle. He flicked his wand sharply while hissing a spell beneath his breath. The pale blue spell crackled on its swift course towards Godric. Immediately, the other teen circled his wand quickly to bring up a shimmering shield. However, the strength behind Salazar's spell was too strong for Godric's shield. The blue spell barely slowed down as it passed through the shield, spiderweb cracks bursting from the impact point before shattering into nothing. The hex slammed into Godric's chest and sent the teen flying backwards, where he crashed into a nearby tree trunk. Only a swift cast of a cushioning charm kept him from severe injury. The red haired wizard grumbled to himself as he stood up and brushed off his tunic. Godric then raised both of his hands while he stated sourly, **_"I surrender."_ ** His sour look quickly turned into a scowl at the smirk that Salazar had on his lips as he twirled Godric’s wand in his fingers.

It had been a couple of years now since the two had met. With no real home to return to for either of them, at least that Salazar could still not remember, they had spent the time travelling. Ever since they had left that ruined little village, they had never stopped moving for long. For it was during their travels that they often came across various wizard kind that would agree to teach them. It had been a year into their travels that the two young men had come across a man that had agreed to teach them wand crafting so they were able to create their own wands. While wandless magic was definitely useful, it was much easier to channel more powerful spells with a wand as a focus. A wand had the ability to channel more power with more accuracy. The same thing could be done through wandless magic, but one would need a great deal of concentration and double the time of a spell with a wand. Wandless magic was not practical for dueling unless one wanted to throw around mainly stunners and disarming spells. Wands were much more practical and handmade ones were more attuned to their wielder.

So once they had their wands, the young men - now roughly sixteen by estimation on both boy's counts - had soaked up every bit of knowledge they could find. Salazar had even amassed a good size library of scrolls and even a few precious books. He kept these all hidden in a trunk that he had shrunk to fit on a chain around his neck. He had started his own journals as well, taking notes and making observations.

And now, currently, the two young men had taken a break from their travels to practice their dueling skills and settle down for the night. And Salazar had come out the victor. **_"Seems I win again, Godric,"_ ** Salazar drawled, a smirk on his lips. His dark green eyes glinted in amusement as he looked over at his friend. He then threw the teen his wand before brushing off himself and picking up his pack. " **_There is a village not that much further along the road, if my calculations are correct. Instead of staying here, we should be there by nightfall and can find an inn. There we can stay the night instead of sleeping on the dirt road again. I would rather not listen to your complaining again about how the rocks are digging into your delicate back,"_ ** he practically purred. He could never pass up the chance to tease Godric. And the man really could give as good as he got, so it made things all the more entertaining.

 **_"We can decide what to do from there, if it agrees with you."_ ** However, instead of a retort back, Salazar only received a curt nod in reply. Rolling his eyes in exasperation at Godric's brooding, he shot a quick cheering charm towards the other male. He hid a smirk as it hit the man in the back, but could not hold back a snort as Godric twitched as if he had been briefly tickled. **_"Oh, stop your moping, will you? You have bested me many times in a duel. It is only fair that I should best you for once."_ **

Godric huffed and shouldered his own pack, making a big show of being disgruntled. **_"Yes, but I have been losing much more frequently as of late.”_ ** He paused then. **_“And that cheering charm was entirely unnecessary,"_ ** he tried to grumble but it came out with a giggle at the end. He quickly clamped his mouth shut as Salazar only chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. As he pouted in response, Godric started off towards the road again. Salazar snorted and followed after him, waving their privacy ward away before tucking away his wand.

With Godric in a snit, they walked along in silence for awhile. That suited Salazar just fine, taking the time to look around them and just enjoy the countryside. But as they walked along the road, Salazar spied smoke in the distance. He frowned as he studied the curling ribbons, deciding that it was much too dark and plentiful for normal stove fire. Concerned, he motioned towards the area to get Godric's attention. He didn't have to say anything before Godric nodded grimly and apparated away without much thought.

Typical, Salazar thought with a roll of his eyes and followed after him. Reckless Gryffindor, going in without thinking. At least the man had enough sense to apparate on the edge of town rather than inside where Salazar joined him. Someone had to keep Godric out of trouble after all.

Not wanting to be seen and since Godric did not look like he was going to make any move to do anything, Salazar cast a swift spell to cloak them from view. It would make eyes slide right over them, dismissing them. Salazar looked around grimly then, making observations. **_"Northmen,"_ ** he finally spoke, distaste evident in his tone. Ever since the run in with the man those several years ago, he had a disdain for dirty varmints. And, to him, the northmen certainly counted, never knowing how much his views would change one day. They had met a few that had settled down and farmed the land that were fascinating enough with their customs, their gods. But then… there were still tales of the raids against coastal villages and there was always the warring and feuds.

 **_"There is not much that we can do, Godric,"_ ** he said at last with a frown, looking over the burning town. If there were any survivors, they were likely long gone. But before he could say anything more to persuade his friend into moving from the village, there was a sudden sharp scream. Godric was off in that direction before Salazar could stop him. Groaning in exasperation about how predictable Godric was, Salazar took off after his friend.

When Salazar rounded the corner, he found Godric defending a cowering young woman who had her back pressed against the crumbling wall behind her. She was covered in dirt and had tear tracks down her face while her blond hair was brown because of mud. Her pale blue eyes, a pretty colour like the sky, stood out against her pale face and were glittering with tears. Godric had somehow managed to get in front of her and was facing off against two northmen. The men were large in stature like giants, axes in hand, and only looked amused that a young man barely out of boyhood was trying to get in their way. They both dived at Godric and Salazar felt a sense of hopelessness flood him. Godric couldn't defend himself against two mundane men. Not like that at least. And he was too far away for him to be able to help his only friend. Without stopping to think, and acting on a hopeless wish to do anything to save his friend, Salazar's wand was out and he had it pointed towards one of the northmen. "Avada Kedavra!" He did not know what deep corner of his mind that the spell had come from, the very words making him feel dirty.

A dark, yet sickly, green light shot out of his wand and slammed into the nearest northman. Immediately, the man stiffened and fell to the ground. He lay unmoving with the sort of stillness that only the dead could achieve.nWith the distraction, Godric was able to knock out the remaining northman. But Salazar did not even notice, his wand clutched loosely in his trembling hand as he stared unseeing at the ground before him.

He hadn't thought… it just came to mind… he hadn't known what it would do… he had just killed a man! Salazar's eyes filled with horror as he realized what he had done. He knew that the times didn't allow for a soft mind, but he had never killed a man before. At least not like this. This was deliberate, not an accident. It was too much to take as his vision swam. Suddenly then, the young girl that they had protected was standing in front of him. She seemed to sense the turmoil he was in and reached up to place her hands against his cheeks. **_"Thank you. You have saved my life,"_ **she spoke gently, a small smile on her lips. She still looked frightened, but none of that terror was directed towards him. Salazar immediately felt his shoulders relax.

 **_"I am Salazar."_ ** He whispered then, his voice cracking briefly. **_"Salazar Slytherin."_ **

The young girl smiled at him and pulled her hands back. **_"Thank you, Salazar Slytherin."_ ** She said again before looking over to Godric. **_"And thank you. My name is Helga Hufflepuff."_ **

((Page Break))

**_"You know, I still do not see why you would want to come along with us,"_ ** Salazar suddenly remarked dryly as he twisted in his seat to look over at the only female of their group. Helga gave the teen a placating smile and adjusted her skirt.

 **_"I do not have anywhere else to go, Master Slytherin,"_ ** she cooed softly making Salazar cringe and then look away with a scowl. **_"Besides… Would you leave a woman defenseless after an attack such as that?"_ ** She inquired with a gentle smile on her lips. But the look didn't fool Salazar, even though he wasn't looking in her direction. Helga was a strange woman. She was much different than the women of the time that Salazar had come to know. She also had a noble air about her, something she had apparently picked up after having been a servant in some lord's castle for a time. Or so she said. He wasn't quite sure he should believe her or not. Then there was the fact that she was a witch. Not a much trained one, but a witch nonetheless. Godric, of course, had taken it upon himself to teach the only female. Salazar had not participated in these lessons, not wanting to take away the time he had devoted to his own studying. Although, Salazar did have to admit that the girl was fairly talented when it came to herbs. Perhaps, he could allow her to take a look at the journal he was writing on magical herbs and plants. She just might have some input useful.

With a sigh though, the young man shook his head clear of his thoughts and looked back down along the path. After saving Helga, they had taken three abandoned horses from the village and had taken off. Salazar had thought that Helga's travelling with them would only last a few days, or until they had come across a village. But those days had passed and it found Helga still traveling with them. It didn't seem like the girl would be leaving anytime soon either.

After he spotted a clearing, Salazar reined in his horse and slid off the creature's back. He made his way towards the small stream that wound its way through the trees and crouched down to wet his hands. **_"We should rest here for a little while."_ ** He said as he glanced over to Godric. The other male merely shrugged and quickly swung off of his horse's back. Salazar had to scowl a little at his friend's grace in how he did it. It was obvious that Godric had ridden horses plenty of times before. Salazar didn't know if he had ever done it, and if he had… well all that knowledge was long gone. He had to learn how to ride a horse the hard way and his bottom was still sore from the experience, even with a cushioning charm. Still, he kept his complaints to himself. Horses were valuable and certainly made their traveling easier, even if it was at the expense of his bottom.

 **_"You know, Salazar… if you were more accepting and less grumpy, I might be more inclined to share my scrolls with you,"_ ** Helga's suddenly spoke as the the young man in question had scooped up some water from the stream to drink. He choked softly as he was startled out of his thoughts before he turned to look at the young girl with slightly reddened cheeks. He quickly cleared his throat and turned his head away.

 **_"Scrolls? What do you mean, Helga?"_ ** He asked carefully, trying not to appear too eager. He could never pass up the chance to learn more. He glanced back at Helga secretly, gauging her expression.

The young girl had gained a triumphant look on her face much to his chagrin. The witch just couldn't hide her emotions at all, wearing them for all to see. " **_My family were just simple commoners."_ ** She passed off, but there was a smug tilt to her voice that had Salazar narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Helga quickly giggled and then continued to speak. **_"But I also come from a wizarding pureblood family. So, I have a few scrolls that have been passed down,"_ ** she told him eagerly.

Oh, Salazar was definitely interested now. Scrolls on family magic? That was what Helga had hinted at, and oh how he wanted to get his hands on them. Helga was still speaking, however. **_"Most commoners do not know how to read or write these days… but my father taught me."_ ** She seemed proud of this. **_"Most purebloods know how to read, whether they are wealthy or not."_ ** She was babbling on, but Salazar wasn't really paying attention anymore. He supposed he could be nicer to her… but doing it just to get his hands on the scrolls was too obvious. He would have to ease into it and not just start being nice to her all at once. But first…

 **_"I suspect you are the daughter of a northman,"_ ** he said suddenly, his words cutting her off. **_"Or, at the least, you have some of their blood in your lineage. So, how do you have scrolls? It is, to my knowledge, that they do not own such things."_ **

Helga puffed herself up with a huff **_. "Yes, alright. My father was a northman. But several generations ago, my family was one of the first to settle in this land. My mother is more native to this country and it is through her family that the scrolls were passed down."_ **

Godric, at the side, was watching all of this in amusement. He knew Salazar better than anyone, so he knew that the young man was planning something. Snorting in amusement, he shook his head before going to wash his face in the stream as well. As he washed his face, he called out to Salazar and made a vague motion before wandering off to relieve himself. Helga looked curious but Salazar merely rolled his eyes and diverted her attention by bringing out some food that they had brought with them. But as he was portioning the bread for them, a startled yelp had him stiffening and pulling out his wand in preparation for an attack. What he wasn't prepared for was Godric's panicked retreat towards them. The young man was trying to stuff his genitals back into his untied pants as he ran while an irate snake slithered behind him, snapping at his heels.

Helga shrieked beside him, a mixture of fear at the snake and indignation at the eyeful she had gained because of Godric. Putting his wand away, Salazar rolled his eyes and stepped forward.  "What has my friend done this time?"  He called out in Parseltongue, getting the snake to stop in its tracks. Godric hid himself behind Salazar, a movement that amused the black haired wizard greatly. But instead of commenting on the sudden lack of bravado, he turned his attention back to the snake that had coiled itself in front of him. The large black creature was hissing something about Godric trampling his nest. Salazar sighed and looked over to his friend who was holding onto him and whispering for him to get rid of the snake. **_"Stop that."_ ** He said in irritation before looking back over to the magnificent serpent.  "My friend is a bumbling oaf, but he did not mean to damage your nest,"  Salazar tried to calm the still irate snake.

Finally, the creature seemed to realize that Salazar was talking to him and actually understood him. Slithering closer, the snake raised its head up higher.  "A speaker… I have never heard of such a thing before."  It said, observing Salazar with a calculating eye. Finally, he moved closer to Salazar and started to wrap around the wizard's leg. Climbing up until he was resting over Salazar's shoulders, the snake proceeded to make itself comfortable.  "I will come with you, Speaker,"  it decided .  "In payment for your… oaf having destroyed my nest."  Salazar supposed that there was going to be no changing the snake's mind. In truth, he didn't really mind. The snake was obviously magical otherwise it would not have been there in the country at all. He was curious about the creature.

 **_"It is going to eat you, Sal! Let me… let me take care of it!"_ ** Godric had pulled out his wand and had filled himself up with bravado once more in the face of the snake. In response, Salazar threw him a sharp glare and then petted the creature's head. Godric couldn't help but gape as he got the implied message. **_"You cannot be seriously thinking about keeping it!"_ ** He cried out, looking indignant. **_"It tried to kill me!"_ **

Salazar glared again and then headed over to his horse. He climbed up onto the creature's back and looked down at his friend with a superior look. **_"You trampled his nest."_ ** He spoke shortly. **_"He was not trying to kill you. He was merely irritated that you had destroyed it with your bumbling around. He is the one who decided that he will come with me. Besides, he can talk to me and I think that this intrigues him. He will be staying."_ ** He was not going to argue this with Godric and his friend knew that.

So Godric merely started to grumble and walked over to his own horse. Helga was left feeling extremely out of place. She felt like she was missing something. Not to mention the fact that Salazar could apparently speak with snakes. Godric seemed to have already been aware as he had done his freaking out over the actual snake rather than his friend speaking with said creature. It was rather intriguing, but this was new to her. She had never heard of such an ability before. Climbing onto her own horse's back again, she watched the black haired wizard with a small frown. She didn't hate him for it and she didn't fear him… it was just strange. She knew he wasn't a bad person anyways. Rubbing her chest lightly over her heart, she quickly nudged her horse to catch up with the other two.

Godric continued to sulk as they rode while Salazar quietly hissed in conversation with his new pet.

((Page Break))

**_"Godric, what did you do?"_ ** Salazar's exasperated voice broke the relative silence. They were currently surrounded by guards, weapons pointed towards them. Helga stood in safety between Godric and Salazar, who faced away from each other.

 **_"I did not do anything!"_ ** The man's indignant voice called out. Said man had a hand on his sword, something he had stolen a while back from a blacksmith that they had come across in some unimportant village. Salazar had two knives hidden in sheaths on his forearms, but he didn't make any moves to grab them just yet. Over the year they had been traveling with Helga, the two men had taken up adding in physical combat to their duels. Godric had been learning how to handle a sword, tips he picked up along the way that built up on the foundation that he had learned in his childhood. Salazar had his own sword strapped at his side, a weapon he was slower to learn. Instead, he preferred his pair of knives that he had stolen from the same blacksmith. It served the man right anyways. The knives weren't flashy like Godric's sword was and more easily concealed, so it gave him a small edge.

Salazar was about to grip his own sword when a new voice called out over the group. **_"What is going on here?"_ ** It was the voice of a young woman. When she appeared, Salazar had to guess that she was close to their age of seventeen. Well, Helga was roughly sixteen years old, but she figured she would be turning seventeen soon.

Salazar took in the image of the young woman who had appeared. She was dressed in a fine blue dress and riding on a black horse. Her cloak was lined with fur, so it was apparent that she was rather well off. Dark grey eyes took each of them in, her black hair blowing in the light breeze. **_"Well?"_ ** She spoke impatiently.

Salazar looked over her with narrowed eyes and received a stern look in reply. Straightening, the black haired man tilted his head up. He would not cower beneath her gaze as he refused to think he was beneath her. **_"We were minding our own business when we were accosted in the road, my lady."_ ** His voice, having deepened over the years, was smooth in tone. A light brushing of hair adorned his chin now and his black hair had grown out, held back now by a braid. It was much easier to take care of than the rat's nest it used to be. The scar that stretched over the side of his face in a jagged lightning strike - received in whatever accident had stolen his memories - had healed over by now, though still sometimes became raw around the edges. It always seemed to happen after dreams that left him sweating and he could never recall upon awakening.

He stood tall now, though still shorter than Godric's rather impressive height. The red haired man's hair was longer as well, though he kept it loose and it was still just as bright. Helga had started turning heads in villages they passed through, ever a ray of sunshine buy just as burning if provoked. It took quite a bit of provocation to spark her temper, but, oh, did it burn. Still, all of them retained the look of youth and one could tell that they were still young, so they made for an intriguing group.

On the horse, the lady looked over to the guards who were surrounding the small ground. **_"And what say you of this? What have they done to warrant such a response?"_ ** She asked coolly, making the guards fidget slightly. Finally, one guard seemed to draw up his courage and accused of seeing one of the travelers perform magic.

Exasperated, Salazar rolled his eyes. He could pick out exactly who had performed the magic. Godric had used a spell to fill his canteen. They hadn't thought anyone was around, but they had obviously been mistaken. Still, to be accused of magic was a serious thing. Besides the lady and the patrolling guards, there was no one else around. So, Salazar discreetly slipped his wand from its holster beside one of his names and quickly fired off a few obliviates. He was not expecting the sizzling spell that suddenly flew in his direction, but his reflexes were honed enough that he managed to duck so the spell whizzed harmlessly over his head.

Frowning, he turned sharply to find that the lady had pulled out her own wand. Beside him, Godric had quickly knocked out the guards before they both faced the woman on horseback. Helga was tittering worriedly next to him, but he ignored her examination for injuries. **_"I'm fine, Helga. My lady, you are…"_ ** He cut himself short, not about to name her a witch out loud. Instead, he gave a quick shake of his head. **_"We truly have not done anything to harm anyone. If you let us go, we will be on our way. I apologize for any misunderstandings."_ ** He spoke in a placating manner, spreading his hands slightly to show that they didn't mean any harm. Salazar had found that sometimes it was best to try to speak one's way out of things if one was uncertain of how other skills could help one along.

 **_"Who are you all?"_ ** The lady demanded with a frown on her lips. Salazar didn't reply at first, his lips thinning slightly. But finally he relented and he introduced them. Surprisingly, Godric had remained relatively quiet for once and had followed his lead. Helga wasn't a surprise as she was a healer and not much of a fighter, though she continued to fret by his side.

The lady looked over the three of them before sliding out of her saddle in an elegant motion. **_"I am Lady Rowena Ravenclaw."_ **

((Page Break))

Somehow, Salazar had to say that he saw this coming. However, Godric was very vocal about his reaction to Rowena's suggestion. **_"You want to do what?!"_ **

Sighing in a manner that said that she was exercising great patience, Rowena straightened out her skirt. **_"I want to build a school, Godric,"_ ** She repeated lightly as she closed the hand written book in front of her. She then held up her hand before Godric could interrupt her again. Salazar had to hide a smirk at Godric's indignant look. **_"Listen to me for once, will you? Take a look at how all of you grew up. I know, Salazar, that you do not remember, but think of the other two. Godric, you were disowned because you are a wizard and had to travel from place to place with Salazar to manage to build the knowledge of magic that you possess. Helga, you come from a pureblood family, but did not have many resources readily available to you. It was all luck that we were all able to come together and were able to amass the knowledge that we have. Others of our kind have not been so lucky… think of the burnings."_ ** Salazar's jaw tightened at that. **_"We need to build a school where we can bring in students of all backgrounds to teach them. I know we are all young, hardly masters in our own right, but if we can at least pass on the basics to children then we have done what we can. We can still learn on our own anyhow."_ **

In the end, it didn't take much to convince the others that it would be a good idea. Salazar was into the idea more because they would be able to stop running. He had enjoyed traveling, but he wanted to settle down for awhile and work on his magic. He wanted to work on his potions. Helga looked at him in amusement when he brought up these points. **_"And you used to say that you would be no good at it,"_ ** she teased him from her spot near the window. The group of them had been staying with Rowena for the past few months, though they had been originally planning to move on again. It seemed that those plans would be changing, though Salazar did not regret this.

 **_"I did use to be terrible with them,"_ ** Salazar spoke tightly. **_"I have a feeling… and a few very vague memories that suggest that I was very bad at them when I was younger. Perhaps because of a terrible teacher."_ ** It was Helga and her knowledge of herbs and magical plants that helped make it click. She had been a very patient teacher with him until he could finally understand the properties better. From there Salazar had soaked up any knowledge of potion making that he could find, experimenting when he could, though the opportunities had been few and far between given the lack of a proper brewing station for the delicacies of certain ingredients.

Rowena smiled briefly before standing up. She then walked over to a little chest and pulled out a scroll. **_"There is an old broch a few days' ride from here. My mother's family owned the land for generations, though it has been in my father's hands since her passing. I have been working on getting the rights to the grounds as my father has had little use for it, saying his home is here. It should not take me much longer, but if I can get it then that is where we can build our school. Wards and enchantments will need to be woven in, and there is plenty of room for expansion. The land includes parts of a forest and a loch, but the open grounds between are quite extensive on their own. The broch itself looks out over the loch."_ **

There was silence as the three others thought over the idea, exchanging wordless looks like an unspoken language. Helga was the first to smile and nod her head, a beaming smile overtaking her face. **_"I think it is a wonderful idea. I would like to designate an area specifically for healing! After all, there are bound to be injuries. Especially with the two of you as teachers!"_ ** She teased the two males, making Salazar scowl lightly. Still, the man did see the merit of the idea and nodded his head in acceptance. Accidents were likely to happen and it was not going to be for lack of proper teaching skills.

Godric was silent for a while longer before he suddenly smirked. **_"Fine. I shall agree as well. But only if we call the school Hogwarts."_ ** He looked smug, ignoring the incredulous look that Salazar shot him. **_"What? I think it would be funny!"_ ** He stated and crossed his arms.

 **_"We are not going to call the school Hogwarts."_ ** Salazar hoped to whatever deity out there that the name would not stick. Who would want to go to a school named 'Hogwarts'? It sounded disgusting, not for a name of a school for small children. No, definitely not. The school would never be called Hogwarts.

((Page Break))

**_"I cannot believe that you are actually going to let him call the school Hogwarts,"_ ** Salazar grumbled as they gathered in the entryway of the large keep. Just a few days ago they had finished with their necessary renovations. They were going to start weaving the spells for the wards soon, but were taking a break to replenish their magic cores. It had taken nearly a year of magic enhanced construction to finish the school. At least for the moment.

The original building had been a singular old broch atop a hill. They had all agreed that it would not be enough. Rowena, being the farthest traveler, had described some large structures she had seen in the Duchy of Normandy and surrounding area. They had taken inspiration from this, making the land the broch sat on into a motte. The broch itself, an ancient tower with no windows and a singular door, had been rebuilt into a keep that housed their various classrooms as well as Rowena's library. The base of the keep housed an underground storeroom. Salazar had claimed this area instead for his potion making as it provided the perfect environment.

Down from the keep, along stone steps set into the motte, led into the bailey. It was surrounded by a palisade they had built from stone rather than timber, wanting it to endure. Several towers had been built into the palisade, one of which housed the kitchens. In the bailey, the enclosed courtyard at the base of the motte, several buildings had been constructed. Near the entrance had been built a great hall with a soaring ceiling, a grand marvel that stood supported by magic. It would make for an impressive reception area and meeting space. There was also an infirmary for Helga.

Where they had all gathered in the keep to meet, Salazar gently stroked the head of Eolas, the snake that he had encountered all of those years ago. Eolas was now his familiar and could be seen with Salazar a good portion of the time. **_"We have already decided who will teach what classes, but where are we going to have the students sleep? There will be times in between classes and I will imagine that we will have them stay here for a majority of the year as well."_ ** He had a small frown on his lips. **_"We will need to create dormitories."_ **

Godric suddenly interrupted Salazar. **_"Why not build houses?"_ ** He said with a grin. **_"Or what I mean is, so we do not have to construct even more buildings, why not sort the students according to different attributes in their personalities? They will be with other students that are similar to them, so it will make it easier to adjust. I can take all the brave students."_ ** He grinned proudly. **_"I can watch over them. Salazar can take all of the cunning students…. And so on."_ **

Salazar let out a sigh. **_"Your idea has merit, I agree."_ ** He frowned slightly before giving his friend a teasing look. **_"Time must be ending for Godric to actually have a good idea for once. Would you not agree, my brother?"_ ** He said before waving his hand slightly. **_"We would need to carefully create an object to sort the students, but we can each have our own group, or House, like Godric said. We would have responsibility over one group, which will save us the trouble of all four of us having to look over the entire body of students. It also solves the dormitory problem. We can each pick a part of the school for our House to be in. There will be a common room and then the dormitory rooms themselves."_ ** He ran his fingers over Eolas' head again. **_"There is a tower near the base of the hill. I can easily construct a tunnel corridor from my potion rooms in the keep to the tower,"_ ** he said thoughtfully after a moment. **_"My chambers will be nearby and easily accessible if needed then."_ **

Helga looked positively enchanted. **_"I will take the kitchen tower,"_ ** she giggled softly. **_"So then, it will be near my chambers as well."_ ** The young woman then brightened then, giving a clap of her hands. **_"We should pick symbols for our Houses to tell them apart!"_ ** She tapped her lip thoughtfully before smiling happily once more. **_"Yellow is my favorite colour, so I will choose that! Black will be a good compliment, I think. So black and yellow are my colours!"_ ** She then looked thoughtful again, on a roll with her ideas. **_"An animal to represent each House would be good as well, to add a bit of fun and have a sort of… guardian for our Houses."_ ** She hummed softly. **_"A badger! My House's animal will be the badger!"_ **

Smiling pleasantly at Helga's enthusiasm, Rowena nodded her head. **_"I shall have blue and bronze then, for my House. The Eagle will be my animal, of course. Not a raven. Do not be so obvious, Godric."_ ** She gave the man a sly look from the corner of her eye when he opened his mouth to speak. **_"I think I will have the West Tower for my House."_ ** She spoke at last before looking over to Godric. **_"And what of you? Though I think we can all take a guess,"_ ** she eyed in amusement as she eyed the lion head brooch on Godric's dark red cloak.

Smirking, Godric crossed his arms. **_"East Tower, as it is the tallest and so has one of the best views in the entire school!"_ ** He spoke exuberantly, making Salazar sigh but smile fondly. Godric ignored him and continued speaking. **_"Colours. Well, red and gold, of course, as they are bright and bold! And a lion will be my House's animal, because they are brave and fierce!"_ **His deep voice boomed, his excitement too much to contain.

Salazar decided he could only be amused. He shook his head fondly before he chuckled lightly. **_"I suppose I shall take green and silver then. A snake will be my House animal."_ ** He paused to stroke Eolas' scales once more. **_"I do not suppose I have to explain why, do I?"_ ** He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he teased Godric. The red haired man rolled his eyes in response, but Salazar ignored him. **_"We have the four Houses then… Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor."_ ** He paused then as inspiration took hole. **_"We should have a competition. Doing well in class can earn points while getting in trouble can take points away. Whichever House has the most points at the end of the school term wins. It may give the students reason to want to do well and not get in trouble."_ **

**_"Prepare to be beaten, Slytherin!"_ ** Godric yelled playfull, as he already seemed to be set on the whole idea of a competition.

Salazar did not even miss a beat. **"I will not even have to try to overtake you, Gryffindor."**

((Page Break))

**_"Five years… it has been five years since I first met you, Godric."_ ** Salazar was standing with the man in Godric's office, adjacent to his classroom in the keep. **_"Five years, but it seems like a lifetime."_ ** He smiled slightly before smoothing out his tunic. **_"The first of the children will be arriving tonight, as you know. I believe Rowena said it should be around dinner, so we will be having a feast to celebrate."_ **

**_"And the feast I suppose was Helga's idea?"_ ** Godric interrupted, but Salazar only gave a small chuckle before nodding his head. **_"Cannot say that I am very much surprised, of course."_ ** Godric passed off before leaning back in his chair slightly. He had a thoughtful look on his face. **_"We have all seen maybe nineteen years, but it amazes me to think that we are going to be teachers in a school of magic. We are by no means masters."_ ** He shook his head, staring thoughtfully out of the small window.

Chuckling, Salazar walked over to his friend and leaned against the desk. **_"Perhaps not,"_ ** he said before waving a hand dismissively. **_"But the children that we are going to teach are young. They will only need to know the basics, something that we all know very well. As they learn, so will we. We will each have a mastery before too long, I suspect. Rowena's library is slowly expanding more and more. I, myself, have been studying and experimenting in my free time."_ **

Godric nodded his head before standing up. **_"Yes, I do suppose that you are right. We should get down to the great hall for lunch."_ ** He smiled before leading his friend out of his office. The two then made their way down from the keep and through the courtyard to the hall. There, Godric took a pause to stare up at the ceiling. **_"Every time I see this, I cannot believe we managed such a feat. When we strove to bring a piece of enchantment to this place to awe visitors, I never would have thought that this would be the result."_ **

Salazar laughed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. **_"Thank Rowena and her books! It helped that there were the four of us weaving in the spells together. I do not think that we would have been able to succeed otherwise. The theory behind it is absolutely fascinating."_ **

Snorting, Godric started his way back up to the front where Helga was already waiting. **_"Your thirst for knowledge is only surpassed by Rowena, my brother,"_ ** he said dryly before he took his seat.. Lounging back in his seat, he then looked out over the great hall. There were four long tables, each decorated in their different colours. Godric suspected that only the ends would be used for some time, but hopefully their school would expand in time. He greeted Rowena as he spotted her before he waited for her to be seated to start on his meal. For not knowing any of them more than a few years, he felt like he had a family with them. He wondered if it had been fate.

((Page Break))

**_"Could not sleep, brother?"_** Godric's voice broke through the silence, though he luckily kept his tone low so the disruption was not shocking. Salazar barely flinched, hunched over the table. He did not respond to Godric as he massaged his temples and stared down at the parchments before him. **_"Ah… headaches again?"_** Godric's voice was sympathetic as he sat across from the black haired wizard. He reached forward then and took the parchments. **_"What are these?"_** His tone was curious.

Salazar continued to massage his temples and closed his eyes. **_"My dreams,"_ ** he said quietly. **_"In them, I feel like I am staring out through a cloudy window. People are faceless and just out of reach. I catch snatches of these details there… I feel compelled to sketch them out."_ **

Godric looked at them curiously. **_"Some look like Hogwarts. But so much… well, grander. So many different details."_ **Salazar shrugged, and pinched his nose.

 **_"Probably just an active imagination, dreams for the future of Hogwarts,"_ **Salazar murmured.

Godric nodded absently as he flipped through the pages. **_"Lots of sleepless nights, I see."_ ** He paused then, spying a drawing of a large chamber. It was decorated with large motifs of serpents and the statue of an ugly old man. **_"What is this supposed to be? Seems sort of dramatic,"_ **he said in amusement.

Salazar cracked open an eye and then scoffed. **_"I have no idea."_ **

(Salazar would not know that in merely a century, his journal would be discovered by then Headmistress Ailith Agnes Threston. His sketches would be referenced in the following centuries as Hogwarts expanded and as the castle became a wonder of various architectural examples throughout history.

The journal itself would become lost after it fell into the hands of Fulke Gaunt, a descendant of the Slytherin line. The Headmaster used the journal as a guide to build the Chamber of Secrets, believing the statue in the drawing to be of Salazar himself. Fulke Gaunt was disgraced as Headmaster not long after its completion. In bitterness, he left behind a basilisk in the chamber to be used one day to cleanse Hogwarts and protect the Slytherin legacy as he saw it. His descendents would go on to spread rumors of the Chamber and pass its secret onto further generations of Gaunts.)

((Page Break))

Classes were an exhausting endeavor, but well worth it in the end. It was rewarding to watch the children, who were the future of their world, grow and learn. The school had grown enough in its short amount of time, become known enough to gain a few more professors who were willing to come pass on their knowledge to the next generation. Some masters came and went, teaching for awhile but unwilling to become part of the more permanent staff.

Still, Salazar had decided to take on teaching two subjects himself. It was hard to juggle sometimes, but he found himself not minding this one bit. Most of the time they did not assign work to be done outside class or take written tests anyhow because many of the children did not know how to read or write. Rowena had taken it upon herself to teach literacy skills to those who needed it, but Salazar had also been meaning to ask her about adding in a class that would help mundane born students better adjust to magic.

After he had stood from his desk after a potions' class, Salazar took his time to clean up. He had another class to get to, after all. It was in a separate classroom from his potions' class for reasons of safety. The young wizard made his way out of the classroom then and locked the door behind him. After a quick stop by his office, he grabbed a few things before he headed up further into the school's keep. His next class was Dark Arts and Defense of them. Dark Arts was his next passion besides Potions. Technically, he could be considered a dark wizard now though he still had more leanings towards Neutral. He had long since learned that with most magic it was the intent behind magic that made it either good or evil. Well, so to speak. He was lucky his friends felt the same as his hunger to learn had no bounds. And he felt that to best teach Defense against Dark Arts, it was to understand the Dark Arts.

So, he taught the Dark Arts along with defense against them and Godric was the one who took the lighter spells along with their defense. They all agreed that it was best to teach the children in a controlled environment and to keep them well rounded. They would keep the children safe and try to give them the tools they needed to grow.

**_"Professor Slytherin!"_ **

A voice broke through his thoughts and Salazar looked up to see one of his students running towards him. With a frown twisting his lips, he stopped to let the boy catch up. **_"Master Everett?"_ ** He asked while taking in the boy's worried look. **_"What is it?"_ ** The young boy looked out of breath as he bent over slightly to take in great lungfuls of air.

 **_"Professor, you have to come quick! Jameson… Jameson is on top of the tower…"_ ** He trailed off, but Salazar got the gist of it.

 **_"Follow me,"_ ** he spoke curtly before going over to one of the nearby walls. After he had placed a hand against the cool stone, he hissed softly beneath his breath. In a few seconds a door had slid open where there was once a seamless wall. Salazar quickly strode through; making sure that the Everett boy followed after him. The secret passage, available only to him because of the parsel magic involved, led them straight to the Slytherin Tower much like portal would. Without a moment to lose, he strode quickly to the door and opened it to find one of his students standing on the edge while he prepared to jump.

As he weighed his options, Salazar crept closer and held out a hand. **_"Jameson? Come here, son."_ ** He spoke softly and kept his expression calm. However, the frightened boy only yelled at him to stay back. He did not want to push the boy over the edge, both literally and figuratively, so he stopped his advance but continued to hold out his hand. He could summon the boy, but he wanted Jameson to step back on his own. It would be better for the boy. He would use his magic only for last resort. **_"Come here, Jameson. Tell me what had happened,"_ ** he tried again as he kept a soothing tone to his voice. **_"Tell me what is wrong."_ **

Jameson looked over his shoulder before looking back over the side of the tower. The boy then wiped at his eyes. **_"I am a freak."_ ** He finally said, **_"My parents said so… All the magic…"_ ** He wiped at his eyes again, sniffing. **_"They let me come here reluctantly when they found out I have magic. But… but they will not want me back… I just know it! I am a freak…"_ **

Salazar frowned at the boy's jumbled rambling. He could only guess that the stress of learning must have gotten to the poor child. If he remembered correctly, and based on the way the boy was talking, Jameson was mundane born. " **_Jameson, you are not a freak. Magic is special."_ ** He soothed as he carefully edged forward while he tried to not spook the boy. **_"If your parents do not like it, then we can become your family. Professor Godric was disowned… but look at him, a professor and a founder of this school. You are safe here. You can protect yourself."_ ** He carefully reached out for the boy. **_"Come on down, Jameson. Let us go see the house elves and have them warm up some milk for you."_ ** He smiled encouragingly then as the boy turned around slightly, looking unsure. **_"That is right. Come on… I can help you."_ **

Jameson reached out a hand to Salazar finally, but his foot slipped on the wet stone from the previous night's rainfall. The boy let out a piercing scream as he flailed and tumbled over the edge. A string of rushed parseltongue passed from Salazar's lips as he gave a startled curse and he threw himself to the edge. His wand was in his hand without thought and he cast a wordless levitating charm.

Immediately, Jameson's descent halted and he hovered briefly in the air before Salazar carefully dragged him back up with the spell. As soon as the boy's feet touched solid ground once more, Salazar gathered the sobbing child into his arms. He grit his teeth and made a promise to himself then and there. None of his students, the children in his House, would have to go through what Jameson had. He would be the support they needed if they could not get it anywhere else. His House would become a family, relying on themselves if they couldn't rely on anyone else.

((Page Break))

**_"I am sorry, Salazar. Truly. There is nothing that we can do."_ ** Rowena shook her head sadly, watching the man in front of them. Three years had passed since they had opened their school and many students had entered. There was even a thriving wizarding village which had set up not too far from the school grounds, named Hogsmeade. Currently, Salazar was trying to get the other founders to help him with one of his students. The young boy had been abandoned and now had no place to go. It had happened before to several other students, but they had been lucky enough to have other families willing to take them in, or have other families that were willing to adopt them. Thankfully, it did not happen often. However, this young boy had no one.

Finally, Salazar straightened up and sneered slightly. **_"Fine. If you are not willing to help me, then I will figure something out on my own."_ ** He turned abruptly, his emerald cloak flaring out behind him.

 **_"Salazar! That was not…!"_ ** Godric's voice was cut off as the door slammed behind him. Sighing, Godric slumped back in his seat. **_"I do want to help."_ ** He murmured under his breath, raising a hand to rub the stubble on his cheek. **_"But there really is nothing… no one will take him in!"_ **

Helga reached over and placed a hand on Godric's arm. **_"We know. But the boy's situation is so close to his own… he cannot help but feel for the boy. You know that."_ ** She then sighed and pulled her hand back. " **_Although… Salazar has changed as of late."_ ** She frowned slightly. " **_It is all of the burnings, I am afraid. We are all affected by it… but to suggest that we take away mundane born children from their families? We cannot do that. It is a difficult situation."_ **

The others nodded in response, though none of them said anything. They did do what they could, but there was little else they could do. Godric suspected that it was because many of the mundane born students went to Slytherin that Salazar was so affected. The man saw more than anyone else what it did to the children to be told that they were evil. Salazar and his House took in those children and taught them how to survive. He was glad that the man had taken it upon himself, but he feared for his friend. What if Salazar saw one thing too far? One day… maybe he would begin to hate the mundane. The little bit of doubt took root in his mind against his will.

…

Back at the tower, Salazar stormed into his chambers. There was only one thing left he could do… adopt the boy himself. So he stalked into his library and locked himself in to research the ritual he would need. He had seen references before so he just needed to find it again. When he did find it, hours later, Salazar immediately gathered the needed ingredients before he summoned the boy to his work room. The twenty-two year old founder would not be swayed in his decision; he did not contact his friends first. Perhaps it was reckless foolishness that he so often playfully accused Godric of, but he was determined to save Cayden.

Cayden was maybe fifteen years old at the most. He had been one of the few special cases that the founders had accepted in the recent year. Before Hogwarts, Cayden hid all signs of his magic. However, his parents had eventually found out and Cayden almost died before Salazar had come upon him during one of his travels to find magical children. He knew Cayden looked up to him and he was fond of the eager young man who was so desperate to learn all he could of magic. In some ways, Cayden reminded him of the way he had been just a few short years ago. Seven, to be exact, since he had woken with no memories of before.

 **_"Cayden."_ ** Salazar greeted the boy warmly when he appeared. Bringing the boy closer, he hugged him briefly before staring him firmly in the eyes. **_"I want to help you. But you are going to have to trust me."_ ** He told Cayden before explaining to him that he was going to adopt him into the Slytherin family. They were too close in age to get away with a father and son bond, but Salazar could adopt him as his brother. As a result, he wouldn't have to go back to his family and he would gain Salazar's Parsel abilities, along with the man's name.

In the end, Cayden agreed to the ritual and he became Cayden Slytherin, brother to Salazar Slytherin.

((Page Break))

**_"Salazar Slytherin, you are hereby banished from Hogwarts."_ ** The words seemed to echo unnecessarily in the suddenly silent hall. They were words that he never wanted to hear, let alone from the mouth of his best friend and brother. Had ten years meant nothing to him? Their school was flourishing, but it was far from perfect. Why would he be banished? No, that was wrong… he thought he understood why.

 **_"Godric, please…"_ ** He tried, but the man only hardened off his expression and clenched his jaw.

 **_"No."_ ** The man stood from his spot at the staff table, cutting off any protests from the dark haired wizard. **_"We should have never let you teach the Dark Arts to the children. So, you are banished from Hogwarts for fostering the dark arts and hatred towards mundanes in these halls. You must leave before sundown tomorrow. That is the only allowance we give you."_ ** The man then sat back down while he ignored the hurt look that was so painfully stretched across Salazar's face. Rowena looked pained, but she hid it behind a stern mask and her inability to look Salazar in the eye. Helga looked the most affected, tears in her eyes. She was looking down at her lap and refused to meet Salazar's eyes as the man searched them beseechingly.

Finally, Salazar gathered himself up after feeling he had made a fool of himself in front of the whispering student body. **_"Fine. So be it,"_ ** he whispered before he turned on his heel, barely restrained hurt radiated from his body as he stalked away. His entire House stood up and hurried after their Head without his direction. He led them to their tower and, once they were in their common room, they crowded around him. They all seemed so lost to him, their expressions searching him for what to do now. As he kept his emotions tightly reined in, Salazar drew them in close. **_"You cannot trust anyone."_ ** He told them. **_"Look where it got me… You can only trust yourselves. You are a family. The other Houses do not understand and they may ridicule you for having a banished Head. Stand strong together, my Snakelings."_ ** He looked around at all of the young faces. **_"I am so proud of you all. Do not let anyone tell you anything different."_ ** He reached out to touch the cheek of one of the boys. **_"If you need anything, any of you… do not be afraid to seek out the help of your fellow students. Slytherins stick together. Remember that."_ **

Salazar gave a final goodbye to his students before he disappeared to his rooms nearby. The tower was built into the side of the cliff and the common room descended down into the rock. He had constructed a window to see into the depths of the loch. The tower above the underground common room is what housed the bedrooms for his students. His chambers were on the same floor as the common room entrance, though did not drop down as far.

In his rooms, he did not bother to gather any of his things. He had a day, did he not? Instead, he gathered his cloak and left after sealing his room. The door disappeared into the stone as if it had never been there. He touched the stone briefly before he turned on his heel to stalk down the corridor. He exited the tower and strode across the courtyard with purpose. He exited the school through the imposing gates while he avoided the great hall. Down across the flying bridge he walked and to the grounds' gates. The trip did nothing to soothe the squeeze around his heart. With a final look back, he disapparated from his spot.

When he reappeared, he stood in the middle of a large field. **_"Cayden!"_ ** He called out, knowing that his brother could hear him. His little brother, the one that he had taken in those two years ago, had betrayed him. He had taught him just like he had taught all of his other students. But Cayden had been closest to him, the one he had taught parselmagic after he had gained his parsel abilities. But as soon as he had graduated a few months before, Cayden had disappeared. Rumors of mundanes being hunted by magic had arisen not long after. It had arisen tension in the school. Then Cayden had visited him, bright eyed and longing to share his grand scheme. Salazar rebuked him and Cayden had not taken kindly to it. Even so, the Slytherin founder had felt so betrayed… he had not taught Cayden and taken him in just so he could become a murderer. If he was to be banished from his home, the least he could do for now was to confront his younger brother.

 **_"Big brother."_ ** The words cut through Salazar's thoughts and the twenty five year old man turned to face the younger Slytherin. **_"Have you finally come to join me? You know as well as I do just how filthy mundanes are… they do not understand. They are afraid of us… but we, we are so much better than them. They do not deserve to live!"_ **Cayden's eyes glowed with madness and it twisted Salazar's heart to see it.

He suspected that it was the teen's treatment as a young child that had fostered this belief. He should have recognized it before now. How blind had he been? How many things had he missed or willfully ignored not wanting to believe it? It was true that he was not altogether too fond of mundanes, but they were human, too. They did not deserve to die just because they did not understand magic. **_"Give this up, Cayden,"_ **he said soothingly while he carefully slipped his wand into his hand.

The other founders would blame him for Cayden, he knew. Truthfully, he blamed himself as well. He should have noticed, should have done more. He should have stopped Cayden before he could start this war. So many should haves and could haves. It would just be another reason why they would feel justified in throwing him out. After all, how much of Cayden's work was because of a misuse of the Dark Arts? He half wondered if maybe the others thought he had sent the boy out to kill on his orders.

But this was not the time for such thoughts, so he shook them off and raised his wand. **_"I did not come to join you, Cayden. I came here to stop you. And if that means killing you, then so be it."_ ** The madness in Cayden would not be easily tamed and he might already be too far gone. Salazar knew that the others would not allow him to return to Hogwarts, but at the very least he could take care of the threat to the peace. Maybe he would even die in the process. At that moment, he found he didn't really care. Whispering a spell, he initiated the duel.

Salazar did not want to fight the brother he had trained, brought under his wing. He had given Cayden Family Magic and had given him a home. But the madness Cayden had hidden, that Salazar had been blind to see, ran deep. As Cayden's elder brother, it was now his responsibility to correct what had happened.

He had taught Cayden well, but the boy was still young and reckless. Even Slytherin's could be reckless after all, they just tended to hide it better. Salazar too had grown used to dueling with the other founders. He was a more well rounded dueler than Cayden. Still, it took a lucky shot to bring the young man down. And with it, Salazar fell to his knees beside his brother. He reached out to Cayden then in his grief. But, as his fingers neared the young man's cheek, a spark like that of electricity jumped between them. It spread a searing pain through him as the gathered magic sought an outlet.

Cayden had been gathering the magic necessary for a dark spell and had been interrupted in the middle of it. With the lingering energy in the air from residual spells, Salazar became the epicenter as it all mixed into a chaotic cocktail. As it surged through him, Salazar slipped into darkness.

((End Chapter One))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was very fragmented and moves at a quick pace. This was more just to set the stage and to highlight more important parts. You will get more flashbacks in later chapters, I promise.
> 
> Also, I don't think I'll ever be truly happy with this chapter (curse of being a writer), but hopefully things flow a bit better now!
> 
> As a last note: I know some of you will ask about the changes to the castle. I was doing some research and found this: It's generally accepted that the school was founded in roughly 990AD. However, castles didn't come to the Isles until, at the earliest, during the late 11th or early 12th century. Even then, they weren't the grand soaring pieces of art that Hogwarts Castle is. Put me in a bit of a conundrum as I'm trying to keep things as historically accurate as I can without overwhelming myself. I did what I could, though I still smudged things a bit. Just one of those details we tend to not think about really.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Old Norse is in italics."
> 
> “Scottish Gaelic is bold and italicized.”
> 
> "Written Latin is underlined and in italics."
> 
> "Parseltongue is underlined."
> 
> 'Fawkes speaking is in italics and is quoted with apostrophes.'
> 
> If any other languages pop up over the course of the story, I will make note of it as well. I will also post this key at the beginning of following chapters to make it easier to remember.

**Last time:**

_Cayden had been gathering the magic necessary for a dark spell and had been interrupted in the middle of it. With the lingering energy in the air from residual spells, Salazar became the epicenter as it all mixed into a chaotic cocktail. As it surged through him, Salazar slipped into darkness._

**Chapter Two**

His head pounded something fierce. It was a pain that he was far too familiar with after his last magical accident. It was something he had not wanted to experience again, yet here he was again.

Salazar slowly opened his eyes and pushed himself into a more upright position. At least it was night out or, perhaps, very early morning. He would have rather not have the sun assaulting his currently sensitive eyes. Another stroke of luck was that he did not have the misfortune of a fresh wound over a good portion of his face like he had the last time. The edges of the scar did feel a bit raw, but there was no blood at the very least.

Besides the ache that filled his body, he did not seem to have any other injuries. So, he had to figure out what had happened. He could feel his core at a dangerous low, but not yet life threatening. With that in mind, Salazar pulled out his wand and then flicked it wordlessly so a pale light appeared. It detached from his wand tip and hovered in front of him with a small whistling sound. The small orb gave him some light to see by, so he pushed aside his cloak and opened up a small pouch against his hip. He retrieved a small vial and inspected it carefully. Satisfied that whatever had happened had not damages the integrity of the potion, he downed it quickly. The headache reliever would go a long way on its own to make him feel more human again.

Now that his head was no longer in a fog, Salazar took the opportunity to look around. He appeared to be in the same meadow that he had fought Cayden in, but he distinctly remembered that there had definitely not been an old oak tree just a few feet off. And the wide river had definitely been a little stream. Even a fool would realize that something was wrong. Still, he was not quite sure where to go or where even to begin investigating what had happened. He was certainly not welcome at Hogwarts anymore, though he might still have time to collect his things. Though, he had to say that if he reappeared there he could not be certain of what sort of welcome he would receive.

So, after a few moments of thought, he decided he would travel to Diagon Alley in Londinium. Ollivander's shop was there, if he remembered correctly. He had, of course, crafted his own wand so he had no need for the actual shop but the small community that had started to grow around the little shop would be a good place to start in his quest to find a new home. Diagon Alley it was.

Summoning up his magic, Salazar used a small burst and silently apparated away. When he reappeared he found himself not in a muddy alleyway between wood and stone houses, nor on a cobbled street. Instead he stood in an alleyway that was filled with trash and had towering buildings on either side of him. Confusion did not even begin to describe what he felt at that moment. Had he veered off course somehow? He had not felt anything go wrong; he had not even splinched himself. Yet as he stepped out of the alleyway he had found himself in, Salazar found himself in a whole new world. People in strange clothing milled about on foot or in strange mechanical vehicles. The world almost seemed fueled by magic except for the distinct lack of such a feeling that would have. A tad overwhelmed by it all, Salazar immediately retreated back into the alleyway again. He flicked his wand then, the cool wood soothing in his palm. "Tempus." There was a dawning realization about just what had felt wrong since he had woken, but he just needed proof. The smoky letters and numbers that appeared in the air in front of him gave him all the proof he needed. **_"August 13th of the year 2005,"_ ** he growled out before he leaned against the wall for support. He swore his headache was coming back now, even with the aid of a potion. Somehow, he had ended up over one thousand years in the future! What was he supposed to do now? He was completely out of his depth.

Hogwarts. He could return to Hogwarts. He could go to his unplottable homestead in the fen, but Hogwarts was where he felt drawn. It was the one thing he thought he knew for certain in this strange new world. Still, how much had things changed in one thousand years? It was easy enough to see that the mundanes had thrived. But what of the magical community? Was his precious school still standing? Even so, the other founders would not be there to stop him from returning. If his school no longer existed as it was, then the structure itself should still be there at least. It would be a place to live until he could figure out what had gone wrong. And if Hogwarts was still a school, then he could see how things had changed over the course of the long years. Would it still be a place to be proud of? With that thought in mind, Salazar gathered his magic and apparated away once more to the Forbidden Forest to just outside the ward boundaries.

When he gathered his bearings and looked up, the sight of Hogwarts nearly took his breath away. In his time, the school was magnificent but it always left him disappointed in a way that he could not explain. He could see some elements of the original school, such as a few of the towers and the gate, but it had grown to be so much more than he could have ever hoped it could be. The next question, though, was whether or not it was still a school. The gate let him pass, so that was a good sign.

As he arrived at the gatehouse, Salazar gently brushed his fingers over the stones. He could feel their age like a tangible thing. The stories these stones could tell… Salazar took a deep breath and looked down the bridge that led to Hogwarts proper. The bridge itself was familiar to him as he walked it, each footstep seeming to resound inside of him. The bridge ended into a small walled courtyard that was only familiar as far as the cobbled stone beneath his feet. But the gate before him was unchanged.

As he placed a hand against the door, it opened soundlessly and without hesitation. Beyond was once an open courtyard with its gathered buildings. Now it opened into a large entryway with a sweeping staircase, but was no less breathtaking. His heart thundered in anticipation.

 **_"Hello, my dear,"_ ** Salazar whispered as the warmth of joy and welcome wrapped around him. **_"Oh, how much you have grown!"_ ** With the erection of the wards, Hogwarts had gained a mind of her own. This had been partly by design in an effort to make the school safe from anything they could not conceive themselves. But to him, she had been like a child. He looked forward to getting to know her again.

But that would have to wait for now. The Great Hall was now joined into one large building rather than its own freestanding structure, though was still where he last remembered. It was as good a place to start as any, so he approached it. The doors opened for him without any prompt.

((Page Break))

Ever since Harry Potter had disappeared, the general assumption was that he was dead. It was not without evidence as all magical means of tracing the boy in the last five years had come up empty. And given that Voldemort had attacked the boy's house at that time, well, it wasn't a hard conclusion to come upon. Dumbledore had tried to keep this news quiet so that it wouldn't get around. He was afraid of what might happen if the wizarding world knew that their precious savior was gone, though he held on to a small speck of hope that the boy still lived. It was a difficult task at hand as Harry had disappeared during an attack on his home.

Dumbledore had tried to convince the world that Harry had gotten out safely and that he had simply hidden away for training. However, it had gotten hard to keep up this story as Harry had been gone for going on nearly five years now. The hope he had held out on was finally starting to die. He didn't think that the boy would be coming back. He should have been almost twenty years old.

With such melancholy thoughts, Dumbledore gave a sigh from his spot at the head table. He picked up his goblet and took a sip of the pumpkin juice contained within, quietly listening to the conversations around him. It was not enough to distract him from his own thoughts, however. What plagued his mind was that Voldemort had been picking up steam as of late. The first few years had been relatively mild, if one could call it such.

According to his spies, with Harry out of the picture, Voldemort had spent time looking for the boy but otherwise building up his army. It meant that Voldemort wasn't sure of the boy's death either. Still, there had been raids by the deatheaters and many resulting deaths but everything had been otherwise frighteningly quiet. To Dumbledore and many others of the Order, this was the calm before the storm. At the very least, it had given them time to prepare as well. Harry's friends had all since graduated and many of his class were now in the Order. Hermione was a professor now at Hogwarts while Ron was there to keep up security as he was now a trainee auror.

That was one more thing that hadn't changed since Harry had disappeared. The school was still open, a place of sanctuary for the children. It kept a sense of normalcy while it made sure that the future of the wizarding world could be defended in case war broke out fully. And given the size of the castle, whole families could be housed just in case. No other place was safer than Hogwarts and Dumbledore firmly believed that.

It was currently early August and the staff were preparing for the first day of school while the Order members were also juggling trying to stop Voldemort's raids. It was very early in the morning still as the sun was just rising. There had been a small raid in the earlier hours and Dumbledore was waiting for the Order members to come back along with a few of the staff. He did not have long to wait as the doors creaked open a few minutes later and a group of very weary witches and wizards trudged in. They looked tired and dirty, and a few were injured as well.

Dumbledore stood and went to greet them, see how things had gone and make sure they were okay. Thankfully, it looked like all of them had returned and Poppy was there to help tend to the injured. Snape had been waiting as well and started handing out various potions to those who did not need Poppy's more attentive care.

In the somber air of the Great Hall, the castle around the suddenly seemed to quiver. The torches and candles burned brighter. Grime and dust magically disappeared. The tables suddenly looked like they had been waxed and polished. The House banners fluttered and the faded colours were bright, as good as new. The suits of armour creaked as they straightened and stood fully to attention. Through the small group of wizards there were whispers of confusion. "Is the castle… well, preening itself?" One of the witches commented, a tone of strained disbelief in her voice. The aged Headmaster vaguely recalled a time that this had happened before nearly a decade ago, but for the life of him could not think of what the significance might be.

There was little time to wonder as the doors to the Hall opened just moments later. Wands were drawn quickly, the Order on edge after such a bad raid the night before. They were prepared for anything, but it was only a young man that appeared in the doorway and walked into the Hall. He had a bemused expression on his face at the action of the doors and the castle. Upon seeing the assembled group, the man looked momentarily surprised and then pleased. **_"Are you teachers here?"_ ** The man asked, but the Order shifted in confusion at the unknown speech.

"I'm sorry… but we do not speak your language," Dumbledore said as he stepped forward. He watched then as a flicker of surprise shot through the man's jaded almost black green eyes.

"How curious," the man spoke again, but this time he spoke in English. His words were slow and spoken with a heavy accent, as if he had not spoken English in a long time and had nearly forgotten how. "Are you teachers here?" He repeated his earlier words, looking over the others and taking in their dirty states with an arched brow. It drew attention to the scar that stretched across the side of his face, its edges still looking half healed.

Dumbledore brushed off his momentary surprise before he gave the young man a polite smile "I am the Headmaster here," he said before he took a step forward. "May I ask who you are and how you entered here?"

The old Headmaster offered a polite smile, but Salazar could see the wary gleam in the elderly man's eyes. Salazar knew he would have control over the wards, so he would have to be careful with his words.

"My name is Herrick… Evans, Headmaster," he pulled the name quickly out of his muddled head, his pause barely noticed. "As for how I entered, I simply walked through the entrance gate." The wards would not bar a Founder from Hogwarts' grounds. Not even the other Founders could permanently bar him from his home. Yes, they had exiled him and they could have put forth measures to try to keep him out, but it was their animosity that had turned him away. And he knew that Godric would have followed through on his threats. But here? They had no power. And, furthermore, he harboured no ill intent towards the school. The wards would not see him as a threat, he had helped to create them after all. It would not make the headmaster trust him, but it would at least show him in a more positive light.

Dumbledore's smile never dropped, but Salazar could almost see the thoughts going through the man's mind. And the way his eyes twinkled… Salazar immediately tightened his mental shields. "Kindly stay out of my head, Headmaster," Salazar spoke icily. "I can understand the need to protect your school, but I do not take kindly to my privacy being violated. If you have a question for me, then simply ask it. I have no reason to hide."

The twinkle in the headmaster's eyes dimmed, the attempts at legilimency retracted. "Ah, my apologies, but one cannot be too careful these days. So if I may ask why you are here? And if I may see your forearms, if you would."

Salazar hid his puzzlement at the request, but pushed up the sleeves of his tunic to show his arms to the Headmaster. They were scarred from day to day life and he had twin bands of runic markings around his forearms just beneath his elbows, but were otherwise clean. He rarely showed them off and the way they were exposed made him uncomfortable. "While I cannot fathom why, are you satisfied?" He asked coldly, and as soon as he had a nod of approval, he yanked his sleeves down. Better to follow along for now, but it did not mean he had to like it.

"Good. Now, I am here to seek refuge at Hogwarts. I find myself without a home and no other place to go. It is my hope that I am not wrong in my understanding that Hogwarts is a safe haven for those who request it," Salazar said quietly.

"No. Absolutely not," a different voice interrupted then and cut off whatever it was that the Headmaster was about to say. "He may not have a Dark Mark, Albus, but I still do not trust him. I do not like the look of him." There was a strange gleam in the man's eyes that unsettled Salazar. There was deep grief, but also resentment and a strange bitterness. For the life of him he could not figure out why it would be directed towards him. The man did not even know him!

Salazar turned his attention towards the man and gave him a shrewd look. "You distrust me so easily. I would like to inquire the name of the one who shows me such loathing," he spoke almost sweetly, his cold emerald eyes glimmering with challenge and maybe just a spark of mischief.

"Sirius Black. You would do well to remember it since it will be the last thing you fear if you try anything," Black spoke menacingly.

Black… where had he heard that name before? Oh yes, if had been the surname of one of Gryffindor's mundane born students. "Sirius Black, you say? Is that not the name of a star? How quaint. But I doubt I will be thinking of a Black dog when my time comes," Salazar replied sweetly. His words had Black whipping his wand out before anyone could react. Salazar had anticipated the move, however, and easily deflected the hex sent towards him with a slash of his wand. "You attack me just like a dog would," he taunted. "Do you not wish to challenge me to a proper duel?" He taunted the man, but never once cast his own spell. Dumbledore had finally had enough though, so it never came down to it anyways.

"That is quite enough, Mr. Evans. And Sirius, I expected better of you!" Dumbledore chastised them both, his voice stern.

Salazar tucked his wand away and gave Dumbledore a formal bow. "I apologize for my actions, Headmaster. I am a guest in your school so it was wrong of me to goad Master Black when I understood the actions he might take against me."

"That is Lord Black to you, Mr. Evans," Black growled nastily as he shoved his wand into its holster and sat back into his seat.

Salazar barely spared him a glance, though he so wished to coolly reply back with a, "And you may call me Lord Slytherin, so spare me your pompous airs." He managed to refrain from such pettiness and instead straightened. Not that he was truly a lord anyways. But his head hurt and his body trembled with magical exhaustion. It had felt good to anger the man, and gave him the adrenaline he needed to keep on his feet. Godric would have said he was dangerously close to acting like a Gryffindor, but Salazar ruthlessly destroyed that thought. He focused on Dumbledore instead.

"Though I have not given you a decent first impression, I will admit, I would like to inquire if you have any teaching positions available so I may earn my keep here. I have recently earned a mastery in both Potions and herbalism, while also being somewhat knowledgeable in several other subjects," he stated calmly.

He was quickly starting to lose his composure, though. The magical exhaustion was taking a toll on his body. He raised a hand briefly then, stopping any replies. "I do not expect you shall come to a decision tonight. Even if you decide to cast me from here, I implore that you at least give me a room for the night. I have travelled a long distance to be here. And, while I suspect you have a great many questions for me, all I ask is that you save the interrogation for the morn." He did not want to make a fool of himself more than he already had.

There were several protests at Salazar's words. Most of those gathered wanted to interrogate him further and right away, but Dumbledore raised a hand. He could see the exhaustion that the stranger had been hiding well so far. "I will have a house elf prepare a room for you. In the meantime, I have one final question for you before you retire."

Salazar did not look too pleased, but acquiesced so gave his nod of consent. But when Dumbledore bluntly asked his opinion on the war, he could only shake his head in confusion. "Pardon me… but war? What war do you speak of? I have spent many years in seclusion while I earned my mastery so I am afraid that I am largely unaware of current affairs of our world." Perhaps he should have done his research beforehand. But then, hindsight really could not change the current moment.

He was aware of the suspicious looks that were sent his way, but this was not something he could pretend to know. He was an expert liar but even he knew when the truth would serve him better.

It was only after a few moments of silence that a younger man with fiery red hair spoke up. Salazar rather wished he hadn't as his first words proved him to be a young man with a rather brazen sense of foolish courage and bravado. He seemed to think higher of himself then he likely was, though how Salazar felt so certain of this he did not know. "You-Know-Who is a madman that is trying to kill all the muggles and anyone else who has supposedly dirty blood. He has many purebloods on his side because he's finishing the shit that Slytherin started years ago. Says he's Slytherin's bloody Heir or something."

Salazar found himself appalled, and not just by the words spewed by the younger man because, Blessed Magic, the boy was crass! But that was not the point he needed to focus on. With resignation settled like a pit in his lower belly, Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose. "You mean to tell me that this war is over blood supremacy?" Would the magical community never learn? He had travelled over one thousand long years into the future, yet was confronted by the very dispute that he had only just left behind! But what truly upset him was that he was also being haunted by his failures as a brother to Cayden. A brother long dead to these wizards, but whose blood had stained his hands a mere few hours ago by his reckoning.

"Dunno how you missed that one, mate. No offense, but you had to have lived beneath a rock to not know a war was going on. This sort of shit's been going down since Salazar bloody Slytherin," the redhead continued on with a scoff, ignoring the affronted expressions of the older magicals.

"Ronald! Language!" That had come from a young woman with rather unruly curls of hair. Her cheeks were painted a light pink and lightly puffed with indignation.

The redhead, Ronald, did not seem bothered. "Well, it's true, ain't it?"

"No," Salazar spoke without thought as a headache pressed at his temples. "While what you say is true, a consequence of my youth I am reluctant to admit, I do want to set one record straight." Salazar turned his gaze on Ronald. "The estate I grew up on was an old one, located on an unplottable piece of land in a fen. One of the prized possessions of the estate was a series of journals written by Salazar Slythetin. It took me some time to translate, but I was able to make sense of most of it. While most of it mentions obscure spells, rituals, and a great number of potions, there was included a few personal notes." He would not have his name dragged through the mud. "He does not mention a wife, nor ever celebrates the birth of an Heir. He does, however, mention a brother." He could practically feel the tension in the air. "If this man claims to be the Heir of Slytherin, he has gotten the wrong Slytherin."

There was stunned silence by the end of his little speech, but Salazar ignored it as he continued to weave lies and truth together. "if these purebloods have delusions of magical supremacy, then they are complete buffoons who need a proper lesson in magic. Yes, certain magicks can be passed down through families, but it is not the purity of blood that determines how much power one has. According to the journals, Cayden Slytherin himself was a mundane born."

He quickly cut himself short then and closed his eyes warily, grief gripping at his heart. "I apologize. I have just lost my own brother to the foolishness of blood worthiness and I am in much need of rest." It seemed the issue would forever haunt him with history none too kind to him. His only grief against mundanes had been that they feared what they did not understand. He had seen many children that had died at the hands of their parents because of this, parents believing their children to be devils or some other such nonsense. He only hated the mundane mindset, not the mundanes themselves! But maybe things had changed in this time; maybe the mundanes were more accepting. Even if they were not, it did not make wizards better than them. It also did not make mundane born magicals any less than those with long lineages.

Still, these facts alone did not change the fact that he had just stepped into the heart of a war. His many times great nephew, if it were true, was no Heir to the House of Slytherin. Perhaps he had the Family Magick, but that did not make him the Heir. Salazar would see to that as Head of the House of Slytherin. A simple little ritual and he could disown the man from the family line. With a disownment, he could strip the Family Magick away and remove that advantage. Though Salazar wasn't particularly fond of wars, he was no stranger to conflict and this was a little thing he could do. Easing some of his guilt would be just a bonus.

Dumbledore watched Salazar with a wary and calculating gleam in his eyes. "As young Ronald has attempted to say, we are battling against the one known as Lord Voldemort." He paused as several around them cringed. Salazar ignored them but for an unimpressed glance. What grave misdeeds had his great nephew done to make his very name one to be feared? He had a mite bit of research to do it seemed, but for now listened for information on what was the current war of the Wizarding world. "Voldemort's real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he has assumed the role of a Dark Lord. His followers are known as Death Eaters." Dumbledore paused, seemingly thinking about how he would continue.

He was interrupted though when a woman in a grey dress and white apron stood before she hurried over to Salazar. "Oh, no you don't! I've had quite enough now," she huffed out, looking much like an angry cat. "I know symptoms of magical exhaustion when I see them! And those clothes may be pristine, but I can see the bruises just beneath that collar of yours, mister. It is not my business to know the circumstances of what was obviously an intense duel, but what sort of Healer would I be if I stood by and did nothing?"

As much as he was amused by her bristling, Salazar was struck by just how much like Helga this woman was. The scolding as she tutted about exhaustion, the way she hovered and mother henned him. But that brought back memories of her rejection, the way she refused to look at him. How disappointed she looked… He quickly yanked his arm out of the healer's hand as his heart squeezed in a vice. "Do not touch me again without my express permission. I do not need your coddling," he said stiffly and turned his back on her. "The room, if you would Headmaster." He had had enough and was ready for a bit of privacy. So when the man agreed and called for a House elf to escort him to his room, Salazar counted his blessings. "You have my thanks." He turned on his heel then, his cloak flaring out in a dramatic fashion that probably would have had Godric giggling in a supposed manly way.

As he stopped outside the doors, Salazar paused to gather his composure. "Give me a moment," he murmured. "Be silent." The House elf wrung his hands nervously, but obeyed. As he stood there, the conversation inside was carried to him. It was perhaps on the whim of Hogwarts, but he could hear the staff inside start to argue with the Headmaster. "We do not know where he comes from, Headmaster! And given this damn war, we bloody well can't just let him stay here! So what if the castle let him in? He could have tricked it somehow!" Salazar recognized the redhead's voice.

"I don't know, Headmaster. He obviously has many secrets, and he's a bit odd, but I think he's genuine. He has the look of a lonely man. I don't think he'll do any harm… but it wouldn't hurt to keep him under close watch, wouldn't it? Besides, you had said you were having trouble finding a replacement Defense professor or Potions professor," a young male spoke up.

"Yes, it is an excellent point, Mr. Zabini," Dumbledore's voice replied. Having had enough, Salazar turned on his heel then and let the house elf lead the way. He never knew he had missed a large part of the conversation.

"He reminds me of Harry…"

"How can you say that, Hermione? That man, Evans, is a complete git! Besides, he's far too old to be Harry, isn't he? Doesn't look a thing like him! And Harry would never call Sirius a dog!" Ron sputtered out in outrage.

"Ron is right, Hermione," Sirius' rough voice spoke up. "And as much as I love him, Harry was an awkward and tiny little teen. Scrawny… Evans, the bastard, is much taller and reminds me of a bloody arrogant Pureblood."

"He has the same eyes…" Hermione spoke again.

Ron snorted. "Harry had glasses… besides, Evans' eyes aren't warm like Harry's. They're not even the same colour eyes! Evans… his eyes are kinda scary actually. Like they don't fit in his young face."

There was a scraping sound as a chair slid across cobblestone. "I don't want to talk about my godson any longer. Especially if you're going to start comparing him to that bastard of a stranger." That was the end of that conversation as soft apologies could barely be heard.

Unaware of the end of the conversation, Salazar stalked the somehow familiar halls after the House elf. He had never seen Hogwarts like this, yet the maze like corridors did not confuse him. As he walked, he took in the paintings and the tapestries. During his time there had been some tapestries and a few statues in the keep. The sheer number of paintings lining the corridors made his lips curl in his disgust. If this was one thing he did not like about the expansion of Hogwarts, it was this. What had they done to his poor school? The corridors were crowded with all of the paintings, and he could imagine that things did not stay secret in the school for long. He had seen how the paintings moved after all.

After some time he eventually ended up on the fifth floor where the house elf showed him to what was apparently a guest room behind the painting of a withered tree. The house elf quickly bowed and then disappeared, leaving Salazar to wonder how he was supposed to get into his room.

"Do you have the password, sir?" A soft voice suddenly spoke up, startling Salazar from his thoughts. A young girl had hopped out of the tree and was staring at Salazar from the frame. She was dressed in a gown that was not unlike the ones that Helga had used to wear.

With a frown, Salazar tilted his head. "I was told that this was where my room was. Was I misled by the house elf?" He asked tiredly. He was in no mood to be run around in circles!

The girl smiled then and shook her head. "So you are the one who will be staying here for the time being. If you wish, please state the password that you would like to use. I will then let you into your rooms." She settled herself against the tree and waited for Salazar to respond. "I am Marilyn, by the way," she added before she fell silent once more.

Salazar was quiet for a time before he nodded his head, as he had decided on a password. **_"Out of place,"_ ** he spoke clearly in Gaelic. The girl gave a nod of acceptance and the painting swung forward to reveal the room beyond. Salazar conceded that the paintings were useful for one thing at least. Still, it made him wonder what else had changed. The expansion aside, of course. He was going to have to go exploring at some point. If he could escape inquisitive eyes, he wanted to see if he could find what had become of Slytherin tower. His old chambers should still be sealed if the magic still held so his possessions would still be there. He just hoped the preservation charms still worked.

As he looked around the simple room, Salazar decided that it looked like it hadn't been used in years. Still, it was clean, free of dust, and private. Satisfied, he walked over to the window to take in the familiar view. This, at least, had not changed so it was calming. Sleep was the larger priority however, so he pulled off his cloak and set it inside the empty wardrobe. After he had taken a seat on the bed, he removed his boots and set them aside. A good sleep was in order before he faced whatever they decided for his future at Hogwarts.

There was, however, one small thing to take care of first. It should not take too much energy, so he did not have to worry about his magical exhaustion, and he had long since learned that it was best to not put certain things off. The disownment of his great nephew was one of them and the Headmaster had given him the wretched man's name.

Salazar conjured up a small wooden bowl before pressing the tip of his wand against his wrist. He murmured a spell beneath his breath, transferring a small amount of his blood to the bowl. Once there was enough, he coated the tip of his wand with his lifeblood. He worked quickly to trace a few runes in the air. With a small push of his magic, the blood hung suspended in the air. When the rune seal was finished, Salazar focused his intent on them. **_"I, Salazar Slytherin, Head of the House of Slytherin, call upon Magick to hear me. Upon the grounds of perversion to the Family Magick, I name Tom Marvolo Riddle, as is his birth name, as unfit for the House of Slytherin. Let the Family Magick be stripped from him and all ties severed. Tom Marvolo Riddle is no kinsman of mine. As I will it, so shall it be."_ **

The blood runes burned bright before him until suddenly they disappeared in wisps of smoke. There was no backlash to him so he was satisfied that it had worked. Now he could sleep. So he dispelled the bowl and placed his wand aside on the table next to the bed.

He had barely gone any further when a blinding pain struck like lightning across his face. It was akin to the pain he'd experienced before, though focused on his scar. Unable to do little more than cry out in pain, Salazar bent over and grabbed his forehead. Like sensing through a veil, he could feel a vague sort of furious anger that did not belong to him and that made the pain in his forehead spike to a level above what he had felt before. After a few moments, Salazar slumped into blessed darkness against the bed.

((Page Break))

Awareness came back slowly, an ache in his head that made him wonder how he had been able to sleep at all. He really hoped that this was not going to become a recurring trend. The sunlight that streamed into his room was filled with the colours of late evening, though it took his sluggish mind a few moments to recognize this. The last he remembered was that he had performed a very basic disownment ritual. From there, he had felt great pain and a foreign anger. It reminded him of his nightmares, though this had been in a far greater intensity and clarity.

With a soft groan, Salazar sat up slowly and tried to take proper stock of himself. He felt disoriented so he stood up slowly and stumbled into the adjourning room in search of a basin of water to wash his face as it felt gritty and stiff. Surprised by the sink, it took him some time to figure it out. Some instinct drove him towards its purpose, but he fumbled over it for a moment. He was not familiar with the plumbing that must have been installed some time after he had originally disappeared from Hogwarts over a thousand years ago.

As he cleaned up, Salazar glanced up at the mirror then. It was then that he finally took notice of the blood that caked the side of his face. He grabbed a nearby towel with a frown and soaked it in the water before carefully dabbing away the dried blood. His scar felt inflamed as he touched its raw edges. Even after all these years, and attempts at treatment, the scar had never truly gone away. He had long since realized it had been the result of a magical injury, but had never discovered the source. It had never bled before, though.

With a displeased scowl stretched across his lips, Salazar finished cleaning up the blood before he retrieved his wand and potion pouch from the bedroom. From the pouch he grabbed a small jar and opened it. He inspected the herbal ointment before he delicately rubbed a little bit of the concoction into the scar. As the ointment faded into his skin, it helped to clear up some of the redness so it did not look so raw anymore. As he tucked the jar back away, Salazar gave a sigh. When had life gotten so complicated?

As he leaned against the edge of the sink, Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, eyes closed. He had such a horrible headache again. More headache reliever was in order and he was going to have to brew more when he had the chance at this rate. He downed the last of it before he tucked the pouch away. A simple charm took care of his hair in lieu of a proper brush, the dark strands neatly weaving themselves into a simple braid.

Then, as no one had yet summoned him, Salazar decided to go in search of the library. Somehow, though he had no memory of these halls, his feet knew the path and he found himself in front of a pair of very familiar doors. Salazar took a moment as he traced his fingers over the carved designs still carefully preserved in the heavy wood. It was more worn now, but he could still remember the day they had put them in. As he closed his eyes, Salazar let himself sink into happy memories of a time that seemed so far away.

((Flashback))

**_"It seems so plain."_ ** Godric had his hands on his hips as he surveyed the large set of wooden doors before them. The four of them had recently completed the special wards over building that would serve as the school library. Rowena was inside to oversee the installation of the shelves by a craftsman she had commissioned. There were a great many of them in the hope that they would all one day be filled. The building itself was highly vaulted as Rowena would have nothing less than a library that was a work of art in itself.

Salazar let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. **_"Godric… You brought me all the way here to tell me that you think the doors to the library are too plain?"_ ** He spoke slowly, clearly irritated. He rubbed the bridge of his nose then as he shot his friend an annoyed look. **_"I had been tending to a potion, Godric. You told me it was urgent."_ **

Godric only gave him an unrepentant grin. With a sigh, Salazar's shoulders sagged. He never really could stay mad at Godric for long. With a shake of his head, he turned to look at the two curved doors that had yet to be set on their hinges and leaned against the outer wall. " **_Alright, fine. They are plain. Most doors are, Godric,"_ ** he admitted, though he gave a small quirk of his lips and shot the redhead a sly look at his teasing.

In response, Godric rolled his eyes and let out a huff. **_"So you say, brother,"_ ** he said with a dramatic wave of his hands. **_"But it is the library. It will be a place where students can read books on almost anything they can think of. It will be a quiet place where they can study or look up information they cannot remember from their classes. The library is going to be special. The doors have to be special as well. They have to say: Look at me, I guard something wonderful behind me!"_ ** Godric waved his arms and Salazar had to dodge an errant hand. **_"These doors need to stand out so the students will not ever mistake this building for anything else!"_ ** He then deflated slightly and gestured towards the doors. **_"But they are not. They are dull and… and boring."_ **

Salazar did not reply. When Godric looked over to his friend, he took in the man's posture. The tall black haired man had one arm wrapped around his waist and his other hand over his mouth. The man's entire body was trembling visibly. At Godric's affronted look, an amused snigger escaped Salazar's lips before he could not hold back anymore and broke out into loud laughter. **_"You… You…"_ ** He started out haltingly before recovering just enough from his laughter to say, **_"I never knew you were so passionate about doors, my brother!"_ **

After a good few minutes of laughter, Salazar finally calmed himself and was able to straighten only to find Godric pouting petulantly at him. A light blush decorated his cheeks at being the victim of Salazar's amusement. With one last chuckle, Salazar placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. **_"For all that the door is dull and boring… things are never boring with you around, my brother,"_ ** he teased with his face completely straight as he said it.

With a smirk that broke free though, he dipped his head. **_"But I will concede your point. So what shall we carve into the doors?"_ ** He asked as he pulled out his wand and gave it a lazy twirl. He turned his thoughtful gaze on the doors and lifted his wand. Carefully visualizing what he wanted, Salazar cast a silent spell with a slow twist of his hand. Wood started to curl away from the door near the top of its vaulted planks. When he finished, Salazar lowered his wand to proudly inspect the runes he had carved into the wood. He had taken a great interest in runes after they had needed to incorporate them into the school's wards. Helga had been an eager teacher, happy to impart the knowledge of her norse forefathers.

Salazar looked to Godric as the other man stepped closer and craned his head slightly to read the runes that had been carved. He seemed to labour over them for a few minutes before he grinned and nodded his approval. **_"What a splendid idea! Extra protection against fire and other destruction, if I read this right. Rowena will certainly be pleased,"_ ** the man said as he drew out his own wand. His tongue slipped past his lips and he furrowed his brow in concentration as he cast his own spell.

Again, wood chippings fell away from the door as Godric worked at it. When he finished, he lowered his wand as well with a small huff. **_"That takes a lot more concentration than I thought,"_ ** The man grumbled before he smirked playfully in imitation of Salazar. **_"Well? Runes are both beautiful and functional, but not much of a statement."_ **

Said wizard gracefully ignored Godric's ribbing and instead eyed the doors with an overexaggerated sneer. **_"Lions? How utterly predictable. Just what is your obsession with those creatures?"_ ** He asked before casting the spell again himself as he was not to be outdone. He carved large snakes that curled around the mirrored rearing lions that Godric had created.

Godric snorted and rolled his eyes. **_"I could say the same thing for you, brother,"_ ** he said as he eyed the carving in front of them. **_"We should probably add in eagles. You know, for Rowena. They are her favorite animal after all, and I am sure that she would want to be included."_ ** He cast the spell again so a pair of eagles in flight took shape to hover over the images of the lions. Godric looked pleased with himself as he lowered his wand.

It was Salazar's turn then to roll his eyes. **_"You cannot forget Helga,"_ ** he reprimanded playfully before he cast the spell once more to carve the image of a crouching badger resting beneath the paws of each lion, stretched out and waiting. With it finished, Salazar panted softly at the effort it took to carve something so intricate. Still, he had to admit that the carving had turned out rather well for it not being planned out. There was also something of each of them that would be forever preserved, locked in place with a cast of the necessary charms.

He turned to Godric then, a satisfied smile playing about his lips. **_"We should get the doors hung into place before Rowena throws a fit,"_ ** he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

 **_"Throw a fit, would I?"_ ** An amused voice said behind them, making the two young men spin around quickly at having been caught. Behind them in the empty doorway where the doors would be hung, Rowena had her hands on her hips and had an eyebrow risen as she gave the two of them a stern look. She turned her attention to the doors then and appraised them. After a time, she nodded her head with a spark of mischief in her eyes. **_"I suppose they will do,"_ ** she spoke in a haughty tone of voice, though she did not try to hide the pleased gleam to her eyes. **_"Get them put into place, will you? The both of you can then help me get the study tables arranged before you decide to create any more havoc on the poor doors of the school."_ **

The groans of the two men were drowned out by Rowena's laughter as she made her way back into the library. Helga appeared suddenly and brushed past, giggling softly as she had seen the whole thing. Going over to Rowena, she chatted happily with the other woman as the two of them waited for Godric and Salazar to join them. Outside, both of the males grumbled as they set the doors onto their hinges.

((End Flashback))

Heart heavy, Salazar sighed and pushed the doors open with a light touch. He rubbed at his chest absently as he looked around in surprise at just how many books there were. If only Rowena could see this, he thought as a hungry gleam entered his eyes. Salazar headed over to the nearest bookshelf and trailed his fingers over the spines. He could spend lifetimes here just absorbing the vast amounts of knowledge. He pulled his hand away reluctantly though and gave a small frown.

He needed to restrain himself for now as there were more pressing matters to attend. The first of which was that he needed to get himself up to date on current events and recent history. So he slipped out his wand and twirled it in a sharp oval above his head. **_"English history ranging from one hundred years to present,"_ ** Salazar ordered as he visualized the spell. It was a literary summoning spell that Rowena had created once their library had started to expand. It would summon every book that contained information outlined by the specified boundaries set. It could be as general or as specific as needed.

Salazar lowered his wand and watched as the conjured fluctuating orb of yellow and orange light flitted away along the stacks of books. It took a few minutes, but then several books came whizzing past him and piled themselves neatly on the table nearby. After he had gathered the stack in his arms, Salazar headed towards the back of the the library but frowned when he noticed that many of the private reading rooms were sealed. He would have missed them if he had not known they were there. Perhaps they had been forgotten about? With a shake of his head, he decided to leave them be and sat down at a nearby table instead. Better to not draw attention to himself by finding long thought lost parts of the school.

He did not know how long he spent reading, but a house elf interrupted him as he was in the middle of a dry piece on the Ministry and recent laws that it had made. "Master… Master Evans?" The poor creature squeaked, looking afraid to interrupt the man. After he had marked his spot, Salazar looked over to him and raised an eyebrow in question. The house elf's ears lowered and he wrung his hands nervously. "Ah… Pippy was asked to tell Master Evans that dinner is ready…"

Salazar nodded his head curtly and stood up. "Thank you, Pippy." With a wave of his wand, he sent most of the books back to their proper shelves. Gathering up the two books that were left, he shrunk them and tucked them into his pocket to look over more later. He then looked down to the house elf. "You may go now, Pippy. I can find my way," he spoke sternly, but not unkindly.

He did find his way without issue, born from an instinct he did not understand. As he strode.through the doors, his eyes took in the entirety of the hall before he made his way towards the staff table. There were a few individuals there, a few he recognized from earlier that morning. The one who had been introduced as Snape was sitting in his customary chair. Salazar had to bite back a deep scowl for a brief moment as he sat down in a different seat. He had to remember that things were different here. It was still his Hogwarts, but it wasn't the same as the one he remembered from what was just a few mere days for him.

He came out of his thoughts as Dumbledore greeted him and smiled at him from his seat in the center. "Hello, Herrick. Wonderful for you to join us. I noticed that you missed lunch. Did you find your room comfortable enough?" The man asked as he sipped at his juice. The elder wizard took note of the stranger's too stiff posture. "Are you alright?" He asked curiously as he set down his goblet.

Salazar looked over and absently waved a dismissive hand. "My accommodations were fine. As your Healer so aptly saw, I am recovering from magical exhaustion. I slept most of the morning and midday away before spending the rest of the time in the library once I had found it. No place quite has a library like Hogwarts. You will have to excuse my rudeness for missing the midday meal," he spoke stiffly before looking back over to his food. "I would ask though that I could get directions to a proper brewing lab, if that can be arranged." His headache reliever had not done much for the pounding in his temples. He would need a stronger dosage. Whatever had happened with the disowning ritual, it had made the headaches worse.

Salazar touched his forehead briefly before he focused back on his food. The others seemed content to ignore him, though a few tried to strike up conversation. Salazar just was not in the mood to want to socialize though, so he politely declined.

Once he had finished his meal, Salazar was about to catch the Headmaster's attention when the doors to the great hall flew open with a bang. Salazar jumped to his feet as a man he did not recognize from the night before stumbled into the hall. "Dumbledore!" The man called out to the headmaster, swaying and then nearly falling over as he spoke. The headmaster, Dumbledore as it were Salazar supposed, had already rushed over to the man's side with some speed for a man his age.

Back at the table, Salazar gave the individual an appraising look as he slid his wand back into its holster. "Cruciatus," he said after a moment as he eyed the way that the blonde man's hands shook. "He has been under the influence of the spell for quite some time, I might add." He pulled a vial from his pouch at his side and then walked at a more sedate pace to the man who was now on the floor.

Salazar uncorked the vial then and held it out. "Take this. It will help with the damage done by the spell," he told the man, watching sternly until the man finally caved in and took the potion. Hogwarts had allowed the younger man in and Dumbledore had seemed concerned, so Salazar figured he was an ally. He watched critically to make sure that the man's shakes subsided and some colour returned to his too pale cheeks.

Salazar gave a polite smile then as silver blue eyes focused on him, sharp as mental clarity returned. "Who are you?" The man asked with a frown then, helped to his feet. As he looked him over with a critical eye, Salazar noted many clues about the younger man. He had the posture of a wealthy upbringing, but now things had turned. He had the vestiges of aristocracy, but was dirty and wore tattered robes. But then, being in the employ of a madman would do that to one's position.

"My name is Herrick," he replied shortly before he narrowed his eyes slightly. "Deatheater? I recognize the robes from a picture in one of the books in the library. The mask too." He stepped back and looked over to Dumbledore for an explanation. He was not particularly happy that he had been dropped in the middle of a war, but would do nearly anything to protect Hogwarts. He looked the blonde over again before he came to a realization. "He is a spy for you and your little organization," Salazar decided before he fought back a smile at the surprise barely hidden in Dumbledore's eyes. He waved a hand dismissively. "It mentioned your Order in one of the books, how it had fought against the Dark Lord in the first war. I assumed you would have reestablished it for the current affairs." It had mentioned the Taboo too, but he refused to use moronic names such as 'You-Know-Who'.

Dumbledore gave a nod of his head. "Yes, he is." He paused then before he continued, his voice deceptively light. "I trust that you can keep that to yourself?" In Dumbledore's mind, he knew that there was no helping it now. He would need to make sure that the man who called himself Evans would not mention Draco's status to anyone outside the castle. It only cemented his decision to allow the man to remain at the castle where he could keep a better eye on him, and any sort of communication he may do to the outside.

Salazar was silent as he studied Dumbledore for a time. He inclined his head then and slipped his wand from its holster. "Your name?" He inquired of the blonde. Once he had it, Salazar pressed the tip of his wand against his wrist. "I, Herrick, do swear to not speak of Draco Malfoy's allegiances with those who do not otherwise know." His wand tip glowed briefly and branded him with a mark that faded away. "Satisfied?"

As he dusted himself off, Draco frowned at the tall man that had given him the potion. He had never seen the dark haired wizard before and the stranger looked to be a few years older than he. Yet he was here and trusted enough to provide aid. So, the blonde gave a curt nod in response before he then turned to the headmaster. Normally he would wait to speak with the elder wizard in private but this was rather important and the information was not sensitive in nature. Besides, he knew how binding Oaths were, so he'd give Herrick the benefit of the doubt for now. 

He had to take a moment to gather himself, but then Draco swallowed thickly. "The Dark Lord…" he trailed off briefly and shook his head. "He was extremely angry. Furious. I've never seen him so livid." He shook his head again before he allowed himself to be led to a seat by the headmaster. He muttered his thanks before he continued. "He called us just after midday without any warning. The timing was strange as he rarely calls a full gathering so early in the day. He was already furious when we arrived. Who knows how long he had raged before then, but we seemed to be there expressly for outlets of his anger and nothing else. Every single one of us was tortured under his wand. Nothing else came of the gathering and he only finally just released us. He held a small number back, but he did not explain why. As I was not privy to it, I came straight here instead. Something happened and, whatever it was, it was important to him in some way." The young man quieted and reached out to grab a goblet.

As he headed to his seat, Salazar narrowed his eyes in thought. "This dark lord of yours… he is deranged," he said finally, distaste coating his words. **_"Certainly not worthy of being a House Heir."_ **He nearly snarled the last sentence as if it was a curse, the Gaelic words concealing an undertone that hovered dangerously close to a slip into Parsel. This creature, this Voldemort, had been preaching in his name? He had been doing these despicable acts in his name? This was what he was most furious about as it was more than just a blood war. Now it was personal. Something had to be done, or all would fail. Perhaps that was why he was here. Magic worked in strange ways after all. Perhaps he was meant to be here to put a stop to the madness. It was perhaps perilously close to arrogance, but there had to be something only he could provide to turn the tides of the war. But whatever was the case, he would not allow the name of Slytherin to be dragged through the mud anymore.

Decision made, Salazar turned on his heel. He had not wanted to get into this war, but now it seemed he had no choice. Well, he had a choice but he knew which one was the better. The lives of magicals depended on it. His reputation was at stake as well, though perhaps harder to change. If he helped be rid of Voldemort, it may help his case if he ever decided to actually tell them who he truly was.

"Dumbledore." He spoke suddenly and looked over his shoulder at the man. "I would like to know if you would accept my more formal inquiry to become a professor in this establishment." As he waited, he turned to face the elder man and gently brushed his mind against the ever present hum of Hogwarts in the back of his mind. She rose up eagerly, the vastness of her presence a welcome warmth as it wrapped around him. As a founder, he had a few privileges that no one else had and he had a House to return to its former glory. And though he had yet to see just how badly the years had treated his House, he knew that he was in for a long journey. And to do that, he needed to be the Head of House. If Dumbledore accepted, then the duties of House Head would be transferred to him. Hogwarts was eager to comply, practically vibrating as she waited for the Headmaster.

Not aware of Salazar's silent communication with his school, Dumbledore gave the young man a polite smile. "Yes, I have come to a decision. After much deliberation, I would like to offer you the position of Potions professor, provided you can show proof of your potions mastery. Our current Potions master will be taking over the Defense against the Dark Arts class."

A sense of relief washed through Salazar as he had been afraid that the headmaster would not agree. After all, the situation was unusual and they had little reason to trust him. So he gave Dumbledore a smile and inclined his head. "I hope I will not disappoint you then, Headmaster. I will provide you with proof if your Potions master would care to test my skills." He straightened fully then and clasped his hands behind his back. "I accept." His words had Hogwarts surging up gleefully.

He watched as one of the assembled staff suddenly made an aborted motion to grab at his hand. Salazar shifted his gaze to him briefly, but turned as if to walk away. He hid a small smirk as the former Head of Slytherin hissed Dumbledore's name and leaned into him. Salazar could take a guess at what was being said, but ignored it as he felt the sudden burn on the back of his wrist. He did not hold back his hiss of pain.

There was some pain to have the awareness of the House wards snap into place too, though he had been prepared for it. Still, he cradled his head gingerly as he studied the small mark on the back of his wrist. It had not changed one bit. Though the ward transfer had not helped his headache one bit. "An anchor point. Does this happen to every professor?"

Dumbledore turned a calculating eye on the dark haired wizard. "It does not. Congratulations on becoming the House Head of Slytherin. Unusual for one not a graduate of these hallowed halls to be sure, but not unheard of."

Salazar dropped his hand with a raised eyebrow. "Can Hogwarts actually do that?" He knew it could of course, having written the spell himself. If a more suitable Head could be found, then the transference would take place. As founder of Slytherin House, there was no one better than him. He was just glad that the school agreed.

His thoughts were broken by the headmaster. "It is not impossible," Dumbledore spoke slowly. "I have never seen such an occurrence before, but I have heard of such a thing happening in the past. If the school deems a professor to be a better fit for a Head position, it can do so." He still watched with a wary eye, but Salazar easily ignored it. Instead, the man nodded tightly with a thoughtful look on his face.

Salazar unclasped his hands then. "Your hospitality was much appreciated, but if you do not mind, I would prefer a room closer to the Slytherin dormitories so I can better get to know my House. They are in the dungeons if the book I read was correct, yes?" He paused then and glanced at the scowling previous Head."If there are chambers normally reserved for the Head, let him keep them. Even if Hogwarts has seen fit to transfer the responsibility of Headship onto me for whatever her reason, I will not turn him out of his rooms." He turned his full attention to the man. "You will find me in the library if you have need to speak with me. I would like to request the itinerary of your classes in the past and to show you my capabilities when you have the time." He would have to create tests for the students to see where their knowledge levels were currently at, but he wanted to go in with a basic idea so he could compare it with what he had used for his past students.

The potions master ignored him and instead turned to the headmaster. "Dumbledore! You cannot just let him do this," he burst out, his anger palpable. Salazar barely held back a sigh. He was going to need more than just a headache relieving potion at this rate. The greasy haired potions master ignored him and continued to rant to the headmaster. "I cannot believe that you will let him just waltz in here and let him become a Head of all things! I was going to tolerate him being a professor, but this is going too far! We have no idea who he is, if he is lying, or what he is capable of! He should be kicked out of Hogwarts, not allowed to burrow in so deeply!"

The dour man's words struck a chord in Salazar and the man stiffened, his betrayal and banishment from Hogwarts still far too clear in his mind. Salazar clenched his jaw as he turned his burning gaze on the man. "You want to know who I am? Then ask! Do not paint me ill before you have even had the chance to know me,” he said in a scarily calm tone. “What can I do about the school deciding to choose me for the Head over you? From why I gather from the Headmaster's words, it is from ancient magic that was set in place long ago. Do you think that I chose this? I cannot say why the ancient magic sees me as a better Head." He easily entwined lies with truth, knowing the best lies were based on fact. "And if you want to know so badly what my abilities are, then why not challenge me to a duel or test me on my knowledge of potions? I have already sworn to share my knowledge, prove I am who I say I am," he sneered at the bat like man, but Snape only silently bared his teeth in anger.

Salazar turned on his heel and quickly strode away before any could stop him. His anger simmered beneath his skin but he managed to keep his emotions under wraps. It would be just his luck that he would have a bout of accidental magic if he was not careful. He needed a way to blow off some steam. Why was it that everyone wanted to kick him out of his one true home? With the emotions burning beneath his skin, he strode with purpose and the intention of locating an empty room he could either meditate or take his sword to conjured targets. The weapon had remained concealed at his side under a spell when he realized that other wizards did not openly carry such weapons. He would need to leave it in his chambers from now on, however.

As he walked though, Salazar’s vision suddenly swam and he needed to lean against the nearby wall. His nap had done little for his magical exhaustion and the headache that had continued to build really was not helping either. He had tried to ignore it, the distraction in the Hall doing a part, but maybe it was time that he set aside his pride. With his back against the wall, Salazar took a moment to rub at his eyes and take a few deep breaths before he straightened.

His usual dosages of headache reliever would do him no good at this point, especially as he had run out anyhow. Luckily enough he knew a recipe of his own design that would do the trick, and in a reasonably short amount of time. With this in mind, he steeled himself and pushed off from the wall. He had little idea where to go, but his feet seemed to know what his mind did not. He ended up in the sublevels of the school, something that had not truly existed to this extent in his time, and in front of a closed door. 

With a flat palm, Salazar pushed open the door and gave the room a cursory glance. It looked like it served as a classroom with its rows of tables, small cauldrons set up neatly at each station. It would do as only a standard cauldron was needed in the creation of the potion. Salazar silently walked through the rows of desks as he trailed his fingers along the old wood. He stopped at one of the stations on impulse and removed his wand. He swirled the tip of his wand inside the rim of the cauldron. The air above it shimmered before shimmering beads of water dripped like rain from an invisible raincloud into the cauldron. He canceled the spell once it had filled enough.

After he had lit a small blue flame beneath the cauldron, Salazar went over to the ingredients cupboard and opened it up. He skimmed through the school’s stock of ingredients and chose carefully the ones that he needed. Back at his station, he kept a close eye on the water as he worked to prepare the ingredients. Once the water was at a temperature just before it would boil, Salazar carefully sprinkled in the first powdered ingredient. He stirred it once counterclockwise and pulled the spoon back out to set it aside. It needed to remain like that for a time, so he returned to preparing the rest of the ingredients.

One by one he added the ingredients, instinctively knowing exactly when to go on to the next step. Godric had often teased him, saying that he could have made complex potions in his sleep. It had always irritated, and secretly pleased, Salazar. Breaking out of his thoughts then, Salazar added in the last ingredient before he stirred it carefully an exact number of times. As he removed the stirring rod, Salazar quickly cast an immediate cooling charm before he doused the flame beneath the cauldron to set it. It could be immediately bottled, so he prepared his vials and placed three of them into his pouch before he downed the fourth one. As the cool relief spread through him, Salazar leaned forward against the table and lowered his head with a sigh. He allowed himself to relax and closed his eyes, though he never once lost awareness of his surroundings. Once the pain finally blessedly faded away, he allowed himself a sigh in relief.

"Was that to your approval?" He said suddenly though. Lifting his head, Salazar turned his gaze over to the door where Snape had entered some time near the beginning. "I knew you would come as soon as I felt I had tripped the wards you put in place," Salazar commented lightly as he started to clean up his work space. Once done, he turned to look at the other man again. Leaning against the long counter, he was the image of poised grace. "It is a relatively simple potion, but did it meet your approval?" He knew better than to admit to creating it as he doubted that the other man would likely not believe him.

Snape sneered softly and brushed past before going over to his desk. "It was adequate," he stated making Salazar resist the urge to roll his eyes. It was like conversing with one of his younger years. But he always got through to them in the end. It only took a bit of patience and stress relieving safely away from his students.

With a snort at his thoughts, Salazar pushed away from the counter and moved closer to Snape. "I would like your notes, if you have them available. I will then leave you be and you will not have to deal with me the rest of the night," he offered as he stopped in front of the man’s desk. Snape tilted his head with a sneer before nearly shoving several notebooks into Salazar's direction. Taking them, the founder raised an eyebrow. "Touchy," he said shortly before turning and heading towards the door. He paused though and looked over his shoulder, a deceptive show of having his back to the man. Salazar was not as vulnerable as he pretended to be. "I am sure that you were a good House Head. And I know that it means your students will have trusted you. Especially since they have no one else to turn to. I would not mind it if they continue to go to you if they need it. I will not break that trust. However, I only ask that you defer to me if it threatens the well-being of any of our students. They are my responsibility after all," he said before he slipped out the door without waiting for a response. Snape said nothing else, however, and did not try to stop his departure.

With his head clear, Salazar wandered the halls until he arrived back at the room they had given him temporarily. He would see to new chambers in the morning. For now, he was much ready for some more sleep. He dropped off the journals first on the single small desk so he could go over them later. He had plenty of research ahead of him and much digging to do. The first of which was that he needed to see for himself the state of affairs in the wizarding world, beyond the research that he had already started on and was not from the mouth of the biased staff. He had learned some of the history after he had left, but now he needed to continue on to more current affairs. Also, on a separate topic, it would also help if he could obtain some new clothes. That part would be more difficult as he had no money. He might have something of value in his old rooms, but that was if he could get to them later. If they still stood. Though he doubted that Hogwarts would allow the destruction of his old chambers, it did not mean that they were in the same spot.

But that was a problem for the morn. So, with a sigh, Salazar pulled off his clothing until he was left only in the loose trousers he had been wearing. Making sure that everything else was neatly put away, he then headed into the adjourning room to wash his face in the sink. Inspecting his scar in the mirror, he then frowned and decided he needed to put more ointment on it after he took care of rather pressing matter. He straightened up from the mirror and looked around for the chamber pot. He did not find one, but he thought he could infer the use of the other objects in the bathroom. But not having the patience or energy for experimentation, he called for a house elf.

After sternly ordering the elf to silence, Salazar asked in a tight and displeased voice what the functions were of the objects in the bathroom. After he had spared the wizard a curious look, Pippy hurried to explain what the toilet did and what the shower did. Salazar dismissed the elf after that and turned his attention to the plumbing. Curious things. During his time, no such advancements had existed. Water to wash was conjured into basins and chamber pots were easily emptied by spells. He could privately admit that he enjoyed the remodeling, however. It certainly made things easier at the very least. Especially the item that the house elf had called a 'toilet'.

Once he had finished in the bathroom, Salazar headed back into the bedroom and grabbed his wand. Hogwarts might be his home and the safest place he had ever remembered feeling, but he was still in an unknown world to his own so he cast a few enchantments and simple wards that would alert him to anything that might happen. He barely had enough magic left without falling to dangerously low levels, but Salazar felt that they were necessary. Once they were in place, Salazar gratefully sunk into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. Closing his eyes, it didn't take him long to drift off into dreams of stealing golden eggs from dragons and battling against large stone statues across a giant game board.

((End Chapter))


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been doing some research and I have found some new information: My first attempt at research led me to believe that the Founders would have spoken Pictish, but known Scottish Gaelic as it was that of the court. My latest attempt at research now tells me that Pictish would have likely died out in Scotland around 900AD. While it was not a sudden death of a language, by the 1000s most of the population in the area would have been Gaelicised Scots rather than hold onto a Pictish identity. The northernmost isles would have likely spoken Old Norse because of the settled Norsemen. Gaelic was likely brought over from Ireland in the 4th through 5th centuries where it evolved separately from Irish Gaelic. The country went through evolutions in language fairly quickly over the following centuries, but based on what I could find the Founders would have spoken Gaelic, not Pictish. I shall change that in the previous chapters.
> 
> "Old Norse is in italics."
> 
> “Scottish Gaelic is bold and italicized.”
> 
> "Written Latin is underlined and in italics."
> 
> "Parseltongue is underlined."
> 
> 'Fawkes speaking is in italics and is quoted with apostrophes.'
> 
> If any other languages pop up over the course of the story, I will make note of it as well. I will also post this key at the beginning of following chapters to make it easier to remember.

**Last Time:**

_ Once he had finished in the bathroom, Salazar headed back into the bedroom and grabbed his wand. Hogwarts might be his home and the safest place he had ever remembered feeling, but he was still in an unknown world to his own so he cast a few enchantments and simple wards that would alert him to anything that might happen. He barely had enough magic left without falling to dangerously low levels, but Salazar felt that they were necessary. Once they were in place, Salazar gratefully sunk into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. Closing his eyes, it didn't take him long to drift off into dreams of stealing golden eggs from dragons and battling against large stone statues across a giant game board. _

**Chapter Three**

When he woke the next morning, Salazar found a headache pounding away in his skull yet again. He sat up with a groan and gently rubbed at his eyes. After he had swung his feet over the side of the bed, Salazar sat there a few moments to gather his bearings. He gave a sigh then and rose to his feet before he made for the adjacent bathroom. He figured it would take some time to get used to the plumbing, but it did have its uses. It was certainly more sanitary than the chamber pots and privy holes he was accustomed to, at any rate. The shower had already proved to be far better than a cleaning charm as well.

The shower, blessedly, left him feeling refreshed and marginally better, which was just another positive. Still, he was going to need another headache reliever if he planned to function at all. The recurring headaches were likely from how depleted his magical reserves were at the moment. Still, he would need to be careful about how much potion he took for the headaches as too many in a short amount of time would cause his magic to build up an immunity against them. And with his headaches, he could deal with some magical exhaustion pain if it meant the potions would remain effective. Just one more dose to take the edge off, then he would not be able to take any more than that for at least another day. That being said, he needed to allow his magical core to recover. Even the use of the most basic of magic was out until his core replenished enough. Though as he was at Hogwarts, a magically saturated site, it would help.

He fetched one of the vials of potion and downed it with a grimace. The effect was immediate, so he stashed the empty vial away and headed over to where he had left the potion master’s journals. Salazar made himself comfortable in front of the desk and opened up one of the books. As he read, he trailed his fingers over the spindly writing. After a time though, he had to call a house elf to request some writing instruments to make notes of his own where he then spent a good two hours on the journals. He was used to the early mornings as he had often used them for research or to correct student work, so this was a rather normal start to his day.

By the time he decided that he was close to a good stopping point for the time, his stomach having made itself known, he had decided a number of things based purely on the work before him. For one, he could tell by the man’s work that he had definitely earned his title of Master. Some of the shortcuts - done in red across the original recipe - that he had devised were nothing short of groundbreaking. However, one Professor Severus Snape was not a good teacher. Salazar knew well enough that a professor needed a firm hand when it came to teaching magic to young children. Potions especially were a subject best learned under supervision because of their volatile potential. Even the most innocent of concoctions could have disastrous results if not properly handled.

It was fairly obvious, however, that Snape did not like children. Side notes in the margins of the journals were scathing remarks on the perceived competency of various students. He ignored these, not about to take them without a grain of salt and not wanting to step into classes with preconceived views.

Salazar had also noticed the apparent lack of instruction past the potions and their uses as these were outlined, but the particulars of ingredients were glossed over. He had found nothing about practical techniques outside a few planned work assignments about their importance, but this would not guarantee that the students would learn the material. From what he could see, he would need to devote an entire lesson on the importance of ingredient preparation alone. Even the older years were going to need to be brought back to some basics as they were not to the standards he would prefer. There were woefully few students in his upper year classes as it was, but he would do what he could to encourage interest in the art.

But, as it were then, there was much work ahead of him to completely rework the curriculum up to his standards. The logical thing to do was to start with the theory of potion components, and preparation techniques, before they moved on to the actual brewing processes. It would give them a better foundation at least and perhaps help prevent accidents. It was better too if they were to discuss the topics rather than being assigned work outside class in the hope they would learn something. Important information could be missed if the students were left on their own to find answers.

"You always lose yourself in your thoughts, Salazar," a sudden voice hissed in his ears, though Salazar only rolled his eyes as he tried to focus on the work in front of him. He opened a new journal and spread it out in front of him to make a few quick notes. He was just about finished for now, he supposed, but he just wanted to add a few more things before he forgot them. But, when he did not answer, the voice hissed in his ear again.  "I am not your caretaker, you insufferable wizard."  The tone was almost fond, if a bit exasperated. " But do not think that I cannot sense your core levels, Salazar Slytherin. I have held my silence long enough, I should think given the current situation. Have you forgotten me? I have had quite enough."

With an exasperated sigh of his own, and maybe also a touch of fondness he would not admit to, Salazar sat back in his chair and brushed his fingers along the cool metal of the silver torc that was wrapped around his throat. It was twisted delicately in the shape of a snake, the head rested upon one collarbone with the tail coiling across the other. With a murmured spell, the rigid metal rippled and expanded to give way to the sleek form of his familiar Eolas. The beautiful creature took a moment to gather himself before he lifted his head to level Salazar with a stare that the man could see from the corner of his eye. The magical snake was silent for only a moment more as his tongue flickered out to smell the air.  "I suppose I will be unable to speak with you while you are here?" The snake spoke with a carefully disinterested air as it unwound itself from across Salazar's shoulders and moved down his arm to coil instead on the desk.

Salazar nodded as he stood up from his chair with a groan. After having remained in one spot for so long, his back did not thank him for it.  "I know you understood the conversations before," he hissed softly as he switched to Parsel. Salazar groaned again then as he stretched out his stiff muscles.  "These people are in the middle of the war and are suspicious enough, as I am sure you can understand. I would rather not bring their attention further onto me. The current Headmaster is likely to keep a close eye on me as it is." He only felt relatively safe speaking in the room because Hogwarts reassured him that it was completely private. A few extra wards of his own assured it. Nearly anywhere else and he would be unable to outright speak to Eolas in Parsel. The need to hide a Family Magick did not bode well for the state of affairs in the magical community.

Still, Parseltongue was a trait owned solely by the Slytherin line and it was well known that the current self proclaimed Dark Lord had familial ties. The disownment would have stripped the unworthy man of the Family Magick, but he was the only known Speaker in recent years if Salazar's research was to be believed. He had no way to properly excuse his own ability, if it came to light. He did not need to draw undue suspicion towards himself. Not when Hogwarts contained the best resources that might return him to his proper time. That is, if he decided to pursue such a thing. What was left for him there anyways? His friends had betrayed him against all reason, and had expelled him from his home. It was here, in this new time, that just maybe he could make a difference. Just maybe he could return his House to its former glory while searching for answers in what was now the past. But the search for answers was a project best left until after he had prepared for the arrival of the students in seventeen days' time.

Yet, before all else, breakfast was in order. So Salazar finished readying himself for the day and left for the Great Hall. He left the door open long enough for Eolas to slip out after him, the snake quick to disappear into the shadows. The creature was likely eager to familiarize himself with the new passages and hidden corridors of the school. Salazar left him to it and instead ventured down to the Great Hall where he took his spot quietly. As he served himself some food, he mused over his plans for the day. The largest issue as the moment was that he had little by way of possessions except for that which he currently had on his person. That problem was easily solved if he could find the entrance to his old chambers as they were likely to have moved. If they were even still there at all. If they were still intact, then it was a simple matter of shrinking everything he needed into a chest. After he recovered from his exhaustion, of course. If his things were not intact, then perhaps he could request an advance from the Headmaster. But he would tackle one problem at a time.

He was broken from his thoughts though when the Headmaster suddenly greeted him. "Did you sleep well, Herrick?" He inquired of the new professor, a deceptively warm smile curving his lips. The cool blue of his eyes seemed to sparkle, but Salazar could not feel any intrusion upon his mind. Still, he regarded the Headmaster with a sense of caution.

"I slept well enough, Headmaster. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality so far," he said lightly as he turned back to his food.

Dumbledore hardly seemed put off by the subtle dismissal and merely continued to smile as he picked up his goblet. "That is good to hear." He paused then as if he had to gather his thoughts. "But I do have to admit that there is something I am curious about," the old man said with careful nonchalance. "You will have to forgive my nosy inquiries, but I am sure you will understand my caution. I simply, if I can be frank, find it rather odd that you truly have very little knowledge of the current war."

Salazar turned his eyes on Dumbledore in response to the question that was not a question. Everything was still and quiet, as if the very walls held their breath in anticipation for his answer. He had to be careful here as he had been lucky enough for the Headmaster to be so accommodating so far, but he knew he toed a very fine line. The circumstances were just enough in his favour that allowed him his new position here, but it was still a time that he knew very little about. There were still customs that had to be navigated and a wealth of changes that could trip him up.

Salazar took a moment to gather his thoughts and relaxed back in his chair. "I truly was unaware,” he said finally. He paused another moment before he sighed and raised his eyes towards Dumbledore. “I was raised in a small household. My mother died when I was young and my father followed not long after. For a time, it was just my elder brother and me. We were young, innocent of the world,” he said while he easily spun truth and lies together. After all, Godric had been older and had been like his brother. It had been just the two of them for a time. “The family estate was large and provided a wealth of knowledge that we took advantage of. When I was old enough, I petitioned the Potionmaster’s Guild and worked to earn my Mastery. We barely left the Estate but for the small community nearby. We were rather insulated.”

Dumbledore looked pensive, but seemed to accept his explanation. "I am sorry to hear of your parents, Herrick. You will have to excuse me, but I must also inquire about what led you here to Hogwarts. You had mentioned the passing of your brother?"

Salazar hesitated as his brow creased. He had turned his gaze away from Dumbledore and instead watched the small ripples across the surface of his drink. “Perhaps the pressures of loneliness and seclusion harmed my brother’s mind,” he said softly, now thinking not of Godric but of Cayden. “A festering seed lodged deep and undetected…” Salazar trailed off then and raised his eyes to look at the Headmaster. “We fought because he was so sure of his delusions. Our home fell in the aftermath and he with it. I have always known that Hogwarts had been a place of asylum in the past and I could think of no other place to turn to for sanctuary.”

Salazar hoped that he would be released from any more questions, but he was disappointed when Dumbledore’s gaze turned colder. “You killed your brother?”

While it was not exactly something done without consequence, Salazar had the feeling the death here was held in a different regard. “I fought my brother in defense, yes, but I am no kin killer, Headmaster,” Salazar stressed as he met the old man’s gaze without a flinch. “I lost my brother to his own delirium.”

Salazar stood then, his appetite having fled him. "If you are done with your questions and dredging up my recent past, then I will take my leave. I cannot take anymore of your questions now in good humor as it is still much too painful. If you can understand that, then you must excuse me. I have a few errands to take care of in preparation for my classes." Dumbledore thankfully did not put up any protest, so Salazar did not hesitate to turn on his heel and make a quick exit. It had hit far too close to home and he needed distractions to bring his emotions back under control.

As he slipped through the doors, Eolas appeared from the shadows with a soft hiss. With no one around to see, Salazar picked up his familiar and let him wrap around his shoulders. A quick notice-me-not spell hid Eolas from view as Salazar left the castle and started off down the road towards Hogsmeade. As he walked, Eolas’s tongue flicked gently against his cheek before the creature spoke.  "Hogwarts has certainly grown, Salazar. She is a curious thing too, much more sentient than she used to be.”  Salazar softly hummed in agreement, but let Eolas continue without saying anything himself.  “It will take me days to explore all of the new passageways and hidden nooks.” Salazar could feel his familiar’s excitement for the challenge, however, so he only chuckled in amusement.

“I happened upon a group of the inhabitants,” the serpent said carefully then.  “I heard them speak of you.” When he did not continue, Salazar raised an eyebrow and gently prodded at Eolas’ tail. The serpent hissed softly, but then continued finally.  “No need to get so pushy, wizard. They did not have nice things to say about you, of course. One spoke of turning you out of Hogwarts, that you were obviously a spy for a man who must not be named. They used your appointment as Head of Slytherin House as proof, stating that the previous Head was an outed spy for the unnamed man. Said man was going to need another spy on Hogwarts’ grounds, so it must be you.” Eolas gave an irritated hiss. For all the grumpiness that the serpent tended to exude, he was fond of Salazar.  “That wizard was the most vocal. A female told him off, but the others seemed to agree that you have some sort of ulterior motive even if you being a spy was rather unlikely." Salazar inclined his head as Eolas settled back down.

**_"Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, hm? That might be a particularly true adage,"_ ** he mused out loud to himself in Pictish, though he was still quiet.  **_“I represent an unknown, and a potential ally. The Headmaster will want to keep me close. The wards let me into Hogwarts so it paints me in a favourable light, but he does not know exactly where I stand. I do not blame him._ ** " A small smirk curled over his lips before he glanced down at Eolas.  **_"Ah, pardon me… I was just speaking my thoughts out loud,"_ ** he spoke, earning a small hiss of amusement for his troubles.

As he stepped through the gates into Hogsmeade, Salazar could not help but look about in wonder. The little village had changed very little over the years, though was perhaps a bit larger than before. There were shops in some of the old houses, but the buildings themselves were the same, if only a bit more worn by age. Magic raised dwellings in the blink of an eye, after all. He could not help but remember then the feisty young boy, one of Helga's little badgers, that proclaimed far and wide that he was the founder of the village since he had given it its name. In truth, the village had sprung up where it had because of the school as magical families wanted to be closer to where their children were being taught. Besides that, it took more than just students and teachers to run a boarding school. But Hengist's name for the village had stuck and Salazar was pleased to see that the village had stood the test of time. And though he was curious to see what had changed, Salazar knew he would need to explore it at a later time.

The green eyes wizard apparated away, only to reappear again in the Black Forest that surrounded a good portion of the school. The small grove he had appeared in was protected by magic so it had unchanged. It was a good thing too as the magic of the forest seemed to have warped and grown over the years like a wild thing left unchecked. The forest had been old even in his time, an ancient stone circle at its very center. Salazar wondered if this was the source of the wild magic. It left him with an uneasy feeling, but it was something that would require investigation later. For now, it was not at the top of his priorities.

So Salazar turned his back on the forest depths and approached the entrance to a small cave. Weathered runes glowed at his approach when they sensed his magic. He brushed his hand against the stone and they flickered to let him pass. Rough hewn steps appeared before him and he descended them with a small conjured blue flame in his hand to light the way.

At the bottom of the stairs was another archway that glowed with inscribed runes as he approached them. He ran his hand over the wall once more and they flickered to let him pass. From there he walked along a long carved out corridor. He could hear the flow of water in the distance and came upon an open chamber after a time. The tunnel had been carved out by magic, but this chamber was a natural one and had a large reservoir fed from the loch above. The waterfall had changed some since he had last seen it as the constant run of water had carved out the stone it flowed over. The reservoir too was much larger than he remembered it. 

The natural bridge that spanned over the chamber provided a perfect view into the depths of the underground lake. The water had risen enough that Salazar thought that he might have to enchant the bridge like he had done the common room windows so it would not flood. But, again, that was a problem for another time. He paused in the middle of the dridge through when he spotted movement in the water below. The small forms appeared on the rocks and Salazar could not stop his smile when he recognized them.  **‘How fares the water?’** He called out in Scottish Gaelic to the small creatures. Asrai were water spirits that could not stand the sun. The underground lake was fed by the loch, so provided the perfect home for these spirits. They lived long enough that he thought he recognized a handful of them, though even they had aged.

The Asrai tittered in excitement and a couple scurried up the large stones to reach the bridge. Their translucent skin shimmered in the light of his fire, their green hair dripping water onto the carved railing of the bridge.  **‘Salazar! We thought you lost when you did not visit,’** one of the spirits said with a pout. Asrai were long lived, so time was a different concept to them.  **‘Did you bring us any treats?’** The other spirit asked eagerly, but gave a pout when Salazar gave an apologetic shake of his head. After nearly a thousand years, he had not even been sure if the Asrai would still be in the pool. He would need to visit again though and bring some sweets.

**‘I will bring some next time,’** he promised.  **‘I must be on my way now. I will visit again soon!’** They let him go, though both pouted and huffed even as they waved goodbye. Salazar chuckled in amusement, glad to see that some things had not changed.

The end of the corridor was a blank wall of stacked stone. When Salazar placed his hand on the wall, a runic array flared up and the wizard breathed a sigh of relief. The passageway was one he had originally constructed in the event that he needed to sneak his students out of the school. With the unrest between magicals and the mundane, he had felt it necessary in case there was an attack. He was the only one aware of the passage as it had originally emptied out near the Slytherin common room and his old chambers. With the expansion of the school and the relocation of his territory, he had been worried that the entrance would no longer work. The array worked though, so it meant that the entrance was still accessible. A few words of Parseltongue had the stones folding in on each other to create an archway. He closed it behind him with a hiss and a wave of his hand, the stones gliding together back into a seamless wall.

The nature of the magic meant that his old chambers were likely still close. The array on the door should react to his touch, just as the hidden doorway to the passageway had done. So, Salazar made his way through the corridors silently with his fingers lightly pressed against the stone walls. He had not gone far when he spotted an empty alcove ahead, which only gave him brief pause. When he placed his hand on the wall, the array shimmered into view. The entrance spot had been moved, but the runic array was still intact. With hope warm in his chest, Salazar summoned up some of his magic and guided it along his pathways to his hand where it pooled in his palm. In reaction, the illusion of the wall shimmered away to reveal the heavy wooden door beyond.

Eolas hissed a warning of someone’s approach along the corridor, so Salazar quickly entered the room beyond and erected the illusion once more. Safe for the moment, Salazar turned back around to investigate. It was strange to think that he had been in this room only a few days beforehand. Everything was placed where he remembered them, though it was clear that the preservation charms had started to fail. While everything looked to be in good condition from how he remembered it, there was a buildup of a good layer of dust. That was easily remedied, though would need to wait until his reserves had built back up again. The flame in the tunnel had been earth magic channeled through his pathways, but he had needed to draw upon his own magic to open the doorways. Nothing in the magnitude of actual spellwork, or course, but he might pay for it later by way of yet another headache.

Safe in the knowledge that no one knew he was here, Salazar approached his desk and gently brushed his hand over the open cover of a journal. He coughed as the dust rose up and he waved a hand in front of his face in an attempt to clear the air. Perhaps there was an easier method?  **_“Hogwarts? Would you be a dear? The dust is out of control,”_ ** he spoke in Gaelic, a more comfortable tongue. The school’s eager presence gently pushed against his mind in her version of a hug before the room seemed to shake around him. When the room settled, the dust had been cleared.  **_“Thank you,”_ ** he said aloud before he turned back to the room. 

First things first would be clothing. Cleaning charms could only get him so far and he was eager to change into something different. Not that he owned a large wardrobe anyhow. Still, he was relieved to change into new pants and an embroidered green tunic. Salazar took a moment to gently run his fingers over the thread of the embroidered cuffs before he drew his wand. It was quick work to pack his few articles of clothing into a wooden chest along with his spare boots.

Once his clothing was packed away, Salazar looked around him. He had to decide what to take with him as he could not feasibly take everything with him. The books and scrolls he had contributed to the library would now be lost to time as he could not realistically take them back now if they even still existed after all this time available to students, but he could take with him the few that had been left in his room. There were a few other trinkets too that he would loathe to leave behind. Even shrunk there was only so much space in the chest and a few items held too many memories for him to want to deal with them anytime soon. So he sorted through what he wanted to bring with him and promised himself he would deal with everything else at a later time.

Once he was satisfied that he had everything that he needed, Salazar gathered up Eolas and draped him over his shoulders. He then picked up the chest and left the way he had entered. Once he was back in front of the castle gates, he tucked the chest more securely beneath his arm and let Eolas wander off on his own. His familiar was still eager to find new entrances to the castle and who was he to deny him? Being seen with a snake familiar would not show him in a good light anyways. So he let Eolas go on his way and made the trek back up to the school on his own.

Salazar slipped through the front doors only to encounter an older woman that he had seen only in passing as she tended to be at the Headmaster’s side. He had not yet been properly introduced to her, though she seemed to have an opinion on him already. Her expression was shrewd as she looked him over with an unimpressed hum. "Retrieved your things, then?" She asked him with a barely hidden note of curiosity that bordered on outright suspicion.

Salazar inclined his head in agreement rather than snipping back in defense. “Yes. I am sure you are aware that I had brought little with me when I arrived as I did, though I can imagine that I can be forgiven such an oversight given my circumstances," he said with only a thin film of chastisement to colour his words.

“Oh, my!” The older witch's eyes widened and her severe expression seemed to melt away, softening the lines of her face. She had the grace to look mildly sheepish about her actions. It was an expression he thought was strange on her, though this was the first time he had actually spoken to her though he had seen her in the Headmaster's company. He had to give her credit then as the woman gathered herself back up quickly and replied with barely a hint of a blush. “Oh, yes, of course. You will have to forgive me, Mister Evans. After what you said you went through, you can be quite forgiven for your thoughts left in other places.” The witch cleared her throat then and seemed to finish gathering her wits. She drew herself up and offered a hint of a smile. "Oh, where are my manners? I have not yet had a chance to introduce myself, have I? I am Minerva McGonagall. Professor of Transfiguration, Deputy Headmistress, and Head of Gryffindor House. How do you do?” There was a twinkle in her eye that spoke more of hidden mischievousness rather than the legilmancy powers that the Headmaster possessed.

Salazar gave a sly smile and a slight tilt of his head. “ **_The pleasure is all mine,”_ ** he said in a fluid switch to Gaelic. While her accent was coloured enough by those of the English wizards around her, Salazar had found a refreshing familiarity in her speech the longer they had spoken. The language would have evolved over time, but it was familiar enough that Minerva McGonagall's severe features completely softened in surprise.

A simple expression of joy lit up her eyes and she closed the distance between them as she finished her descent of the main staircase.  **_"Well, I'll be. I thought I had recognized your accent!"_ ** She visibly contained herself then and cleared her throat.  **_"I am on my way to a meeting with the Headmaster as I cannot escape my duties, I am afraid. But I must invite you to join me for tea some time. I can imagine there are a few things I can share with you that will make your interactions with the students that much easier. Especially as a fellow Head of House,"_ ** she spoke in rapid Gaelic in a way that told of how glad she was to have another who spoke the language.

**_"I might just take you up on the offer, Professor,"_ ** Salazar said honestly. If the Slytherin Head was on good terms with the Gryffindor Head, then perhaps it would help promote unity and act as a first step in improving his House's reputation.

**_"Oh, please. Call me Minerva,"_ ** the witch responded and Salazar could only accept.

She took her leave after and left behind a bemused Salazar. He huffed out a small laugh in the empty hall before he set out for the guest chambers he had been given. It stood to reason then that he would likely be transferred closer to the Slytherin Common room at some point, so he didn't bother to unpack completely once he had arrived in his room. He did, however, pull out his journals so he could compare them with the ones he had received from Snape. With a quill in hand, he hunched over the desk and ignored Eolas as he appeared. His familiar was content to coil into a warm patch of sunlight without a word.

Yet, as the hours passed with little change, Eolas unwound himself and instead made a nuisance of himself by draping over Salazar's parchments. The man blinked out of his focused state with a displeased tsk and he reached out to remove the snake. Eolas puffed himself up and gave a drawn out hiss before he snapped at his wizard in drawn out syllables.  "You silly human… Do I have to monitor your every moment, telling you when to eat? If you do not hurry, you will surely miss the midday meal."

Salazar shot a glare at the snake, though it lacked much heat. With a smooth motion, he was on his feet and had his robes settled about his shoulders.  **_"It would not be the first time I have taken a meal at my desk, you know,"_ ** he said as he clasped his robes.  **_"I will also say that I am quite used to only two meals a day, though I will concede that a meal now would benefit my recovery."_ ** In his own time, it was the habit to eat a morning meal and an evening one only. Wizards were unique in that they would offer a midday meal, but that was because the energy requirements for magical beings were greater than that of mundanes. Mundane born students often skipped this extra meal at first until they had realized it benefited them. He himself had sometimes skipped this meal in favor of his work. But Eolas was right in that this was one he should not miss.

So, the wizard turned on his heel and made the familiar trek through the corridors to the Great Hall. There he found himself an empty seat and started in on his meal. All the while he ignored the distrustful looks that many of the others shot his way. Such things would pass in time as long as he did not bring undue attention upon himself. Minerva though was already seated next to the Headmaster and she gave Salazar a nod, a small quirk of her lips lessening the severity of her expression. Salazar responded in kind with a feeling of fondness that he could not explain.

The conversations around him ebbed and flowed with barely any interest to him until the man in the adjacent seat glanced up at him. "It has been remiss of me, but I have yet to introduce myself. I am Blaise Zabini," he said. "I would also say former Slytherin student, but, well, I am sure you understand." For all that it was only a school House, a Slytherin was always a Slytherin.

Salazar gave the dark skinned man an appraising look. "Herrick Evans," he responded finally with a small inclination of his head. Zabini appeared to be a few years younger, though the exact number was difficult to gauge. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he finished formally.

Throughout the rest of the meal, Zabini kept him engaged in light conversation. He had a humor that Salazar could appreciate, though the jade eyed wizard was still reluctant to invest too much of himself. Luckily, Zabini seemed to understand the unspoken sentiment. So once the empty dishes had disappeared, Salazar stood up and turned to the younger man. "If you are not busy, Master Zabini, would you perhaps care to accompany me to the Slytherin Common room to continue this conversation?" He extended the invitation with a polite smile.

Zabini regarded him for a moment before he gave a decisive nod and climbed to his feet. "I don't have anything to do until later in the afternoon," he said as he rounded the table after Salazar. "Might as well take you up on the offer."

The two men left together, engaged in light conversation as Salazar let his feet carry him to the Slytherin Common room. The stretch of wall that he stopped in front of was bare and easily dismissed, but something in him decided that this was right. So he placed his hand against the wall and closed his eyes to reach out to the wards. Hogwarts eagerly met him halfway, the House wards vibrating happily as they waited with a sort of sentience that they had never had before in his time.

Salazar took a moment to let them wash over him before he requested that the door be opened to them. He would need to set a passcode for his students, but that was for another time. As the false wall melted away to reveal the passageway down into the Common room, Salazar let his hand fall back down to his side. “Shall we?” He led the way down into the room as the entrance closed behind them. “I have yet to actually set foot inside these walls,” Salazar said as he looked around in interest. How much had changed in the years since he had last set foot in here? It was not a sealed chamber that his personal rooms had been and so much of the school had already changed.

As he strode over to the gathered plush couches in front of the elaborate hearth, Salazar took in everything. The general layout of the room was still as he remembered. The very foundation had remained unchanged, as well as the hearth that he had taken great joy in creating. The seating was new, as well as the lighting. But there was still the view into the Lake that he had so loved. It cast a green aura on the rough hewn chamber that was comforting in its familiarity. Still, for all its grandeur, the room felt cold. Salazar figured he might have to make some changes.

"You decided to come with me… might I ask why?" He asked bluntly as they settled on the cool leather of the couches. A flick of his wand fed the hearth flame and brought more warmth to the room. Salazar leveled his gaze on Zabini as he waited for a reply.

"I am curious," Zabini said just as bluntly. "I do not know you, so I trust you about as well as you can expect. But, knowing that it was Hogwarts that had chosen you for the position it has given you, it leads me to believe that the ancient magics had to have had a good reason. I want to know why," was Zabini's calm reply. "Besides, Slytherins are taught to show a united front no matter what goes on behind the veil of unity. We will need that now more than ever as we fight both against Pureblood supremacy and the suspicion of our own allies."

Salazar gave a small smile. "There is nothing wrong about being curious," he said then in reply to Zabini's initial admission. "It is how you sate your curiosity that proves your character." Salazar was quiet then before he rose to his feet again to wander about the common room. His mind was too restless not to give his body an outlet, so he masked it in the need to explore the changed atmosphere of the room. "You are right that we should stand together because who else shall stand with us?" Salazar said after a time, as his fingers glided over the polished wood of a high backed chair. "However, it is my goal to bring Slytherin House back to glory. The students it produces are known for their ambition, yes, but I do not care for the attitude that makes them scapegoats to a broken society.” He had done enough research to understand that he had barely scratched the surface of how deeply corruption and stagnation ran. For how complex a hidden world they were, Salazar had expected far more from it.

Zabini regarded him quietly for a moment, his gaze heavy as he weighed a question that was so visible in his eyes. Salazar waited patiently for the dark skinned man until Zabini finally leaned forward with a curious hum. "If we are to share the same goal, then let us not be strangers to each other. Tell me, then, about Salazar Slytherin’s journals and the man himself. A family heirloom, you said? Does that make you a descendent?”

Salazar decided he should have expected the question as he let himself chuckle. "A descendent? No," he said simply and with truth ringing in his words. "Who is to say how the journals ended up where they did, but they give an intriguing insight to their author. He writes of Hogwarts fondly, enough that I feel like I know some of her secrets already." The dark haired wizard paused then to mull over his response. Finally, he decided on: "He was a complicated man, Salazar Slytherin. As many are. From what I understand, he oft kept to himself. However, he always had a moment to spare for the few students that attended the early school. It was especially the Slytherins that he took beneath his wing, but that should not come as much of a surprise. I know little how the Slytherin students are seen now, as they have gained their own reputation in time, but in Salazar's time it was the home for those who had no other place. Of course he enjoyed other traits, such as the lauded ambition of Slytherin House, but his House contained many students who could turn to no one else. He taught them to fend for themselves, as who else would if not their fellow Slytherins?" Salazar smiled wistfully as he thought back on his little den of snakelings. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that he had left them behind with fair few to help them. He should count himself lucky the others had not completely disbanded his House.

Salazar leaned back against a table then and crossed his arms across his chest as he turned the brunt of his gaze against Zabini. "This brings me to several questions. I have the words of Salazar Slytherin and have seen the disdain upon Slytherins from those already graduated from these hallowed walls. But what of the current students? How are they treated by both the student body and by the adults who are responsible for their well being?" That was the immediate concern.

"It is the opinion of the wizarding world at large that Slytherins are all budding Dark Witches and Wizards," Zabini spoke softly. "That alone would not be of any importance, except that the wizarding world has long forgotten the importance of Balance. Dark is equatable to evil in the mind of the public.” Zabini’s gaze was intense and unyielding. “It is a reputation gained long ago in a history lost to mere stories and speculation, where it has led into a world where children inherit the sins of their parents.” The dark skinned wizard gave a quiet laugh, the sound too bitter. “The majority of Slytherins come from Pureblood families of varying pedigree. Those who are not from even the lesser families are often forgotten about, fade into the woodwork so to speak. Those who do come from Pureblooded families have had the prejudice of superior blood drilled into their heads for most of their lives. Coupled with the fact that they have no one to turn to and are expected to live up to the impossible expectations of their parents…" Zabini shook his head as he trailed off. “It is a cycle that bare few have been able to make and those that have done so have very little to show for it.”

Salazar bowed his head and closed his eyes, his expression one of contemplation. He could feel the weight of Zabini’s gaze on him. It was hardly a subtle call for help, though pride likely kept the younger man from asking outright. "Salazar would be disappointed in his students if he knew," Salazar finally spoke in a quiet voice. His chest felt tight, but he could not really say that he was entirely surprised to hear the situation. He took a fortifying breath and then met Zabini’s gaze head on. "You say that the Slytherins have no one to turn to, but that hardly answered my question. Tell me, Blaise Zabini, of how my House is treated by other students and by the professors meant to guide them. What has Snape done to protect them?”

Zabini gave in with a nod and finally looked away. “Professor Snape showed favoritism towards his students. He would reward us with points while he would find even the littlest ways to take points from the other Houses, Gryffindor especially. He can certainly hold a grudge, that man. While he is a brilliant Potion Master, and I have the utmost respect for how long he survived as a spy amongst the Dark Lord’s ranks, he is not a shining role model for a teacher. I do not think there was a single student, Draco aside, that would have gone to Snape for help. We had to find help amongst ourselves, but even Slytherins don’t always trust other Slytherins. The older years tend to fall prey to fanaticism and blossoming addictions to the Dark Arts.” Zabini sighed and shook his head. “As for the other professors, they tended to be more subtle in their bias. While the other Houses were not safe from punishment according to their misdeeds, the blame was often quick to fall on Slytherins whether it was warranted or not.”

There was silence for a moment and then Zabini gave a wry smile. “As for the other students? Well, you heard Weasley.”

Salazar clenched his jaw and turned his gaze towards the green depths of the lake through the window. “Then there is a long path in front of me,” he stated seriously. “One that I shall need allies by my side, if you are willing.”

At the offering, Zabini climbed to his feet and stepped over to Salazar. The jade eyed wizard straightened to his feet and grasped Zabini’s forearm when the man extended his hand. “I would be honoured,” Zabini said with a sincerity that brought a smile to Salazar’s lips.

((Page Break))

"My name is Hermione Granger," a hand suddenly appeared in his line of vision and blocked his view of his book. As he followed the hand up to its owner, Salazar raised an eyebrow as he took in the young woman’s determined posture. A Gryffindor, if he had to guess. "I am the Defense against the Dark Arts professor," she told him next, still holding her hand out. “Well, one of them at least. I do not hold a mastery just yet, but I refuse to call myself an assistant.”

After he had decided to ignore the still outstretched hand, Salazar leaned back in his chair and closed his book. "You know who I am by now, I assume," he spoke mildly. "So, is there something you needed me for?" There was so much to learn and so much to prepare, so he had decided what took the most precedence was the most relevant potion discoveries in recent years. A number of books and journals were laid out before him on the library table, a great many of them having been penned by Severus Snape. Other more recent discoveries were still at least several decades old. While it made things easier for him, it was a disheartening example of the stagnancy of magic. But he digressed from the situation at hand, so he focused back on the near vibrating woman in front of him.

The woman, Granger, flushed a bit when he did not take her hand and she pulled it back a little awkwardly. Granger recovered quickly though, not easily defeated, as she surged forward again. "You are going to be a new professor, so I thought it would be best if we could be on good terms," she said. "Perhaps we could compare teaching styles? I was a student underneath Snape's tutelage when he was the Potion's professor. I was curious to how you would do things," she told him eagerly but Salazar only gave her a disinterested look.

"You are welcome to sit in on one of my classes if you are that curious, Miss Granger. However, there is still much preparation that I must attend to in regards to both my duties as Head of House, and the material in which I intend to go over with my students. I do not have the advantage of an assistant. That said, you can see that I do not have the time to debate trifles. If you would be so kind then, I would appreciate it if you would leave me to my work," Salazar spoke as calmly as he could, his words spoken lightly. He ignored the odd feeling that certain roles had been switched, though he could not place any relatable memories to the feeling. He had not met Granger before now anyways.

In a clear dismissal, Salazar turned his attention back down to the books laid out before him. Distantly, Salazar heard the young woman leave with a small sniff and something about being as unapproachable as Snape. It caused a small smile to pull at his lips, though not because he enjoyed being compared to the sour man. Luckily Salazar had very little interaction with him.

Another interruption came just moments later and sent Salazar’s heart to racing. He had not heard the other man’s approach, but suddenly a voice was speaking to him from among the stacks of bookshelves. "If I may be so blunt, it seems to me that if you continue to act like that, you are never going to make any friends with the rest of the teachers," the soft voice spoke as the man rounded one of the bookshelves. As he calmed his heart, Salazar looked up again to spot an older man with amber eyes and scarred visage that belied the kind smile he offered. "I apologize for the interruption, but I'll be leaving for a short trip today and I wanted to take the chance to introduce myself to you. I am Remus Lupin, a former professor here.”

Salazar regarded the man before him and was struck by the vague recollection of a moon and a dark writhing forest. The sudden onslaught brought with it the echo of a headache and a feeling of frustration. He had been recently plagued by half formed memories of things he did not remember happening, and impressions of people he had never met. While he had his suspicions, the incidents fell low on his list of current priorities. So he brushed it all aside and gave Lupin a polite smile. "It is a pleasure. But if you would not mind, I would truly like to be left alone." He had never been known for really caring about another's feelings, though Godric had always liked to point out that he really was secretly soft at heart. But that thought brought with it memories that were still far too raw for him to revisit.

"Are you alright, Mr. Evans? You look a bit pale." Lupin's voice cut through his thoughts and abruptly pulled him back to the present. The peace and quiet of his chamber called to him now, so Salazar gave a curt nod as he climbed to his feet. A wave of his wand had his things neatly stacked and then shrunk to easier carry. After two days of rest, his magic had replenished enough that small things like this were doable.

As he picked up his books, Salazar gave the other man a brief smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I apologize for my abruptness, but you will have to excuse me. Have a good day," he said in dismissal before he left and entirely missed the puzzled look on the other man’s face as he scented the air.

As he quickly strode down the hallway, Salazar took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He took a sharp turn down a hallway then as he remembered at the last moment that he had been assigned new chambers. As he had been appointed as both the new Potion's professor and the Head of Slytherin House, the Headmaster had reasoned that he needed rooms that were closer to his students. Snape had kept his old chambers - as Salazar was not about to kick him from them and cause new resentment on top of everything else - so the House elves had cleaned out an old set of rooms for him that had likely been at one time an old classroom. The entrance was a plain door, but Salazar preferred that over the portrait entrances anyways.

The front chamber, which would have been the original classroom, doubled as both his study and a sitting room. Shelves lined one side of the room with an ornate desk before them and hearth directly opposite. The shelves were already filled by all of his old scrolls and books. An old couch was salvaged from somewhere, worn but very comfortable. Opposite of the entrance was the door to his bedroom proper. It had been the office space at one time, but comfortably fit a bed and his wardrobe. A second door opened into a small ensuite.

In the sitting room, Salazar set the books from the library down on his desk and reversed the enchantment on them to return them to their normal size. After a moment of quiet, he heaved a sigh and spun on his heel with the intention of leaving the castle. The stone walls around him were unyielding and seemed to press down upon him. It left him with too little air in his lungs and the need for fresh air, open spaces.

With too much rattling about in his mind, Salazar let his feet take him without thought until he eventually came upon the edge of the lake. The land had changed after nearly a thousand years, but there were still distant mountain peaks that he recognized and the gentle ripples of the lake was as soothing as it had always been. It was familiar enough that, if he closed his eyes, he felt as if he had never left. He could almost imagine Godric’s footsteps as he sought him out, always knowing when he needed him.

((Flashback))

**_"Is Helga giving you a hard time again?"_ ** A deep voice whispered in his ear while strong arms wrapped around his waist, but Salazar knew immediately who the other was and so relaxed back into the embrace. Godric was his brother and he welcomed the closeness that they could share. Especially when his mind was in turmoil and his headaches brought fuzzy edges to his vision. He could trust Godric to protect his back and support him. A cool hand brushed against his forehead and Salazar let the last of his tension seep out of him.

With his weight resting against the solid support of Godric’s body, Salazar breathed out slowly. " **_I can take some of the blame too, as I was the one who started the argument,”_ ** he said wryly.  **_“She has become so vocal lately and I could not stand back any longer. I had to confront her on the issue and I merely wish for her to understand my stance on this.”_ ** He brought up a hand and rested it over his eyes as Godric’s hand dropped.  **_“It is insulting to broadly hate mundanes for the actions of a few. And to look down upon them… mundanes are surprisingly inventive without magic to fall back upon in solutions to problems.”_ ** He huffed out a soft laugh.  **_“But it is true that humans fear what they do not understand. Even magical folk fall prey to this truth. And when humans fear something, they become rash. It is then our mundane born children that feel the brunt of this.”_ **

Salazar knew he was working himself up into a rant, but he knew he could talk to Godric about anything and it had been building up on his chest.  **_“Of course, some families seem genuinely pleased for their children, but those are a rarity. I have seen much more who seek to use their children, for they think it will bring them riches, or will reject them because obviously their child has made deals with devils to gain their magic.”_ ** Salazar leaned back into Godric, ignoring the man’s stillness. “ **_I know you understand, Godric. You have shared many stories with me from your time with the Knights. I have helped my fair share as well… and you know that these occurrences are increasing. And, in this future that is so uncertain, I am afraid. I do not want to be rash, like it is in our nature to be, but I know something must be done. Perhaps a new system could be established.”_ **

Salazar paused then and heaved a great sigh.  **_"I tire of cleaning up the aftermath of abuse my Slytherins go through. I can only do so much for them, but Hogwarts is their only home. I want to help them, but I do not know what else I can do. I am doing all I can for the moment, but I am only treating the aftereffects. It does nothing to solve the actual problem,"_ ** Salazar mused before he trailed off with another great sigh.

It was then that Salazar finally realized that Godric was almost unnaturally still. He turned to see the taller man staring out at the lake with eyes that were far away from the present. He thought he should be irritated that Godric had seemingly not been listening to him, but he only felt concerned.

Salazar pulled away from Godric’s lax grip and turned to face him.  **_"What is it, Godric? What is on your mind?"_ **

Directly questioned, Godric gave a slow blink and then focused on Salazar. " **_Nothing at all,"_ ** he said before he gave a roll of his eyes. " **_Well, that is to say nothing that you need to worry about. And you should not stress either, my brother."_ ** Salazar might have agreed, but the skin around Godric's eyes was too tight. He knew Godric well enough to know something was not right.

He had no time to press though as he spotted Cayden's approach. The younger man tucked his wand away as he walked, but Salazar dismissed it as he went to greet his brother. He gave Godric an absent goodbye as he wrapped an arm about Cayden's shoulders as he led the way back to the school.  **_"Tell me, how does it feel to be out in the world? Have you had enough of it yet?"_ ** He teased his brother, happy to see him again. It had been only a short time since Cayden had decided he needed more worldly experience, but Salazar had missed Cayden's company and their long debates over magic.

" **_I had wanted to speak to you, Salazar,"_ ** Cayden said quietly as they passed through the gates of the school.  **_"I could not help but overhear your conversation with Gryffindor and it only strengthens my resolve. I knew I could come to you for help in this endeavor."_ ** He came to a stop and faced Salazar, a strange light in his eyes. It was in that moment that Salazar observed his brother with growing concern. The young man was paler, had a gaunt draw to his face and a wildness in his eyes that Salazar had never seen before. Dread clawed at the pits of his stomach.

" **_I have something in mind, and I want your help,"_ ** Cayden whispered urgently as he stepped closer to Salazar. The strange madness was growing stronger now, coupled with the adoration for his brother that had always been in his gaze. It made Salazar uncomfortable now, but he found himself rooted to his spot with ever growing trepidation.  **_"I have already begun…"_ **

((End Flashback))

A splash from the lake startled Salazar from his memories. The man huffed out a wry laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had come out here to ease his mind, not fall into the murky depths of a painful memory. Logically, things had gone wrong far before then and that day had not been the start of the end, but it very much felt like it had been the pivotal point in where everything had gone wrong. That day was when Cayden had explained his plans and desire to eradicate the mundanes.

The hatred that had spewed from his brother’s lips had sent Salazar reeling and grasping at straws. The deep depth of the young man’s vitriol was not a newly learned thing and Salazar had been left guessing at how he had missed it. He had vehemently denounced anything to do with Cayden’s plans, too shocked to be gentle. And Cayden had always hated being told ‘no’. Salazar still remembered the ugly twist of anger that had deformed Cayden’s handsome face before the younger man had disappeared. Salazar had still been in too much shock to stop his brother from leaving. From there, the attacks on mundanes had become more frequent and audacious. Cayden no longer hid what he was doing, brazen in his crusade to eradicate their non magical kin. It was then not long after that the others had banished him from the school.

The banishment rankled, an open festering wound because of all the unanswered questions. How could he have been so blind to the situation around him? It seemed obvious that the others blamed him for Cayden; and in that they were not wrong. He blamed himself. But to go so far as to banish him publicly, humiliate him in front of the entire school? It was not something he could have foreseen or even thought the others capable.

With a huff of disgust, Salazar turned his back on the loch to head back towards the school. Though the view was a familiar one, it only brought forth sullied memories. If he was to find some peace, it would need to be inside the walls of the school rather than outside them. While the corridors carried a sense of familiarity, they were unfamiliar enough still to not carry connotations best ignored for the time. The school was large enough that he could find a space to breathe. He deserved the chance to run from everything, if only just for a time. He would face it head on another time. Only once he was better prepared, of course.

((Page Break))

It was a few days before the start of term that saw Salazar finally take a break from his preparations. He was comfortable with the syllabus he had created and had submitted it to the Headmaster for approval. With the elder wizard’s go ahead, Salazar had settled the smaller details. All the while he had kept an eye on the inner workings of the castle. The headmaster’s resistance group, the Order of the Phoenix, met regularly. He had yet to find out what went on in the frequent meetings, but there was a lot of traffic to and from the castle. A few, he noted, many came back looking worse for wear. It seemed to indicate a battle of some sort, but nothing ever seemed to appear in the flashy newspaper that showed up at the table every morning. It led Salazar to believe that the paper was controlled by the Dark Lord’s followers. It really did not give him an accurate scope of the war. While he might want to stay out of the war, he was not so stupid as to believe that it could not effect him.

But as the return of the students drew closer, Salazar focused on ensuring all the materials were in order. He even convinced the headmaster to loan him enough currency to purchase new textbooks for the students. He specially warded them against the shenanigans of students as they would be lent to the students during class rather than being given to them. He had not wanted to use Snape’s chosen textbook, but knew it was too close to the beginning of school to expect that all the students would be able to go out and purchase new course books. The new books had arrived the day before, so he felt as if he was as prepared as he could be and decided to take the last bit of time left to him to relax as much as he could manage.

As he made his way to the table for breakfast, Salazar decided he would spend the day roaming the castle. He had had, for now, little trouble in navigating the labyrinth of corridors, but wanted to see if he could find shortcuts and hidden passageways. Who knew what sort of treasures he could find. So with an eagerness to get started on his plans, Salazar sat down at the table and then gathered some food for himself.

"Professor Evans," Dumbledore's voice suddenly drew his attention. The dark haired wizard turned slightly to the Headmaster as he set his goblet aside. He inclined his head to show that he was listening. The elder wizard gave him a rather pleasant smile as he tucked his beard into his belt so it wouldn't get in the way. It all seemed carefully crafted in some way, every motion a plot to convey a certain image. Salazar gave the headmaster a wary eye, but patiently waited for the man to continue. Dumbledore did not disappoint.

"Even with the state the world is in, students will reach Hogwarts by train just as they have always done. We have done everything we can to ensure their safety, but I would like to ask you to accompany the train yourself as well. I feel as if your presence will be a valuable one,” the headmaster requested calmly. 

There was silence in the Hall for all of a few seconds as Salazar stared at the headmaster in bemusement. “I suppose I must accept your proposal then, Headmaster,” the dark haired wizard said finally after a few moments. He had a feeling that he really did not have the option to say no, though his acceptance was the catalyst for some rather exuberant inquiries about Dumbledore’s sanity.

His appetite suddenly soured, Salazar stood with a sigh and excused himself quietly. He could inquire after the details later and instead saw himself from the Hall. As he left, he heard someone call out his name and turned his head to find Zabini approaching. “Good morning, Zabini. Was there something you needed from me?" He questioned in curiosity, only to have the other man chuckle and shake his head.

"Yes and no. I find the protests in the Hall have ruined my appetite, so will you walk with me?” He said with a shrug, to which Salazar agreed. As the two made their way down the corridor away from the Great Hall, Zabini glanced over to Salazar. "I'm going to be on the train as well," he offered. “So, you will not be alone. I am sure I can get Black, who is heading the security, to pair us together for rounds. Might make the trip a little less boring.”

To have Zabini there with him on the magical transport would make the trip more bearable, he could agree with that. So, Salazar gave a nod and offered a small smile. "So not that we have established that we both shall be escorting the students to Hogwarts, might I ask you a few questions about the details?” He continued once Zabini had given him a nod. “Let us see. Well, first off, the students will arrive on September 1st, yes? As I have never ridden it myself, where exactly is the train and when is it scheduled to leave?"

Zabini was very forthcoming, letting Salazar know the answers to his questions. Though the train would leave promptly at 11 o’clock, they would need to arrive much earlier in the day to give the train one last security check and then make sure all of the students boarded the train safely. During the trip itself, they were required to patrol between the cars to ensure the safety of the students as well as keep order. Though Zabini was unaware of the exact amount of wizards enlisted for it, a number would be flying alongside the train on broomsticks under illusion spells as first defense in the security detail.

They wandered together for a time after while they debated simple aspects of magic. Eventually though, Salazar realized the time and excused himself to a staff meeting that the headmaster had arranged to take place during their midday meal. As they all enjoyed their meal, Dumbledore went over a few last minute announcements. Most notably was the addition of some items to Filch’s banned items list. Salazar was not sure if he wanted to know the story behind such a list.

It was then, as Dumbledore was going over who had been appointed prefects, that there was a sudden burst of flame at the Headmaster’s side. While the other professors seemed to pass it off as an everyday occurrence, Salazar warily curled his fingers around the cool handle of his wand. His grip grew lax in astonishment though as the magical flame bloomed into vibrant gold and scarlet plumage that he would recognize anywhere. The creature barely spared him a glance, but Salazar was not likely to forget Godric’s familiar anytime soon. Fawkes would be hunting him down soon, if Salazar had to make a bet about it.

For now though, Fawkes ignored him as he handed Dumbledore a scroll that had been gripped in his talons. With a soft trill, the noble creature settled itself on the back of the man’s chair and ruffled its feathers. Salazar watched wordlessly and gave a weak smile as the woman next to him leaned over close to him. "He's Dumbledore's familiar," she whispered in what was supposed to be a helpful manner. Salazar could only nod, so the woman smiled knowingly in light of what she assumed with Salazar’s awe as she sat back.

With a heavy heart, Salazar watched the phoenix a moment before he forced himself to turn his gaze away. The headmaster had unrolled the scroll and read it with serious intensity. When the wizard came to the end of the unknown message, he stood up and cleared his throat. “You will have to excuse me as I have some urgent business to take care of. Have a good day,” he dismissed them. The rest of his Order was quick to follow him out the door, Fawkes perched on the headmaster’s shoulder.

The other professors let themselves out, though Salazar stopped abruptly when he spotted the ghost that was hovering mere centimeters from the seat of a chair. The echo of an old man seemed to be dozing as Salazar could hear light snores. With a niggling sort of feeling in the back of his mind that did not sit right, Salazar cleared his throat loud enough to startle the ghost awake.

“Yes?” The ghost asked as he squinted his eyes. “Can I help you?”

Salazar forced a polite smile. “I apologize for startling you. I am Professor Herrick Evans. I am the new potions professor, so I thought to introduce myself,” he said.

“Ah, yes, yes. Of course,” the ghost hummed as he nodded slowly.

When the ghost fell silent, Salazar fought not to sigh. “And you are?” He prodded in his gentlest voice.

“Oh, yes, apologies. I am Professor Cuthbert Binns. History of Magic,” the ghost said before he started to drift away through the nearby wall, dismissing Salazar entirely. The wizard could only watch without a word, the pit in his stomach growing in dawning horror. He had a terrible feeling that Binns was a current professor and not just the ghost of a previous professor, though ghost he may be. He had nothing against benevolent spirits, but something told him that History of Magic was a near useless class.

It was only the privacy of the room that let Salazar give out a despairing groan. He allowed himself a moment as he passed a hand over his face before he drew himself up and squared his shoulders. If it was what he suspected, then it was something he would need to bring up with the headmaster eventually. As if he did not have enough on his plate already.

((End Chapter))


End file.
